


A Time Of Magic

by No_One_Special_01289



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Crossover, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mutual Pining, Secret Relationship, Surprise feelings, Time Travel, Time Turner (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 92,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26035909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/No_One_Special_01289/pseuds/No_One_Special_01289
Summary: Now that Voldemort is dead, Harry is ready for a normal year at Hogwarts. One where nothing happens but dreadful exams and the occasional quidditch injury. He's in for anything but normal when The Golden Trio, along with an unfriendly tagalong, are blasted to a place of myth and a time of magic.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 122
Kudos: 427





	1. Chapter One

After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry never thought he would get to attend his last year of school. The castle had been in ruin, too many were dead, the situation was far too messy for Hogwarts to be repaired in a year. He’d been disappointed he would never truly get to say goodbye to the place he’d called home for so long, but once again he’d underestimated wizard kind. That summer, he’d received a letter stating that every student had to repeat the year they’d missed. He’d been overjoyed to receive that letter. He was finally going to have a year that didn’t revolve around Voldemort or whatever dark force had penetrated Hogwarts that year. He could just be a normal teen with normal teen problems. His normal teen problem at the moment, was a book Slughorn was having them read on the properties of Cockatrice venom. Harry could’ve sworn it was written in Russian it was so hard to understand. 

“Do you get this?” Ron asked, buried in the same exact book. 

Harry slammed the book shut and sighed. “No. It’s giving me a headache.”

Hermione shook her head at them and pursed her lips. “You know if you had paid attention in class, you would have the proper context to understand the book. You have no one to blame but yourselves,” She noted before sipping her pumpkin juice. 

“It’s not our fault it’s bloody confusing. Who the hell knows what idiosyncratic means?” Ron said, showing her the page he was on. 

“Peculiar. It means peculiar, Ronald.” 

“Then why not use the word peculiar?” 

Harry drowned out their banter and his gaze wandered around the Great Hall. At the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley sat with her friends, her sorrel red hair pulled into a tight ponytail. Her eyes flickered over in his direction for a split second. Her freckled cheeks turned bright magenta before she looked away quickly. Harry felt heat creep up the back of his neck from the awkwardness of making unintentional eye contact with his ex. 

“She’s still broken up about it you know,” Hermione said, having noticed the brief interaction. “I’ve heard her crying late at night. Are you sure it was the right choice? She really cares about you.” 

“I care about her too,” Harry said with the shake of his head. He’d stayed up many nights during the summer, thinking about Ginny and what she meant to him. She had been an important person in his life for a very long time, and she was beautiful, but their relationship had never felt...natural. There were no sparks when they kissed, his heart didn’t skip when they touched, and he felt like he had to walk on eggshells everytime Ron was in the room with them. He was glad to have her as a friend, as a sister, but they weren’t meant to be more than that. “But I think I made the right choice.” 

“Can we talk about something other than my best friend breaking my sister’s heart?” Ron grumbled, spearing a pasty with his fork. As if the universe heard his plea, owls began to pour through the windows with letters and parcels between their talons. A pang of sadness stabbed at Harry’s heart; he looked everywhere for a flash of white amongst the multitude of brown and grey owls, but like every afternoon, it never appeared. Instead, Errol plummeted towards them with no sign of slowing down. He had a newspaper in his claws.

“ _Arresto Momentum,”_ Ron said lethargically as he pointed his wand at the clumsy bird. Instead of crashing into their drinks and food like many times before, the owl hit the table with a gentle thud and narrowly avoided landing in Harry’s lunch. He couldn’t say the same for the newspaper though. It landed in Hermione’s salad and got coated in whatever vinegar based dressing she’d used. 

“My salad!” She exclaimed, picking up the paper with a frown. 

“Want mine?” Ron offered. “I’m not going to eat it.” Hermione nodded and they swapped hands, Ron’s salad for the newspaper. 

As Ron wiped the newspaper off with a napkin, Harry heard a loud gasp from Neville Longbottom. “I can’t believe it!” He said, showing the front page to Seamus Finnigan. 

“Blimey!” Seamus replied as his face morphed into an expression of stark fear. All around them, students read the front page with sullen faces. One fifth year from Hufflepuff let out a shriek that echoed throughout the eerily quiet Dining Hall 

“Open it Ron,” Harry said, shaking his arm like it would make him go faster. Ron shot him a glare, but unrolled the paper to read the headline. As he read, he went as pale as death itself. Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder, glancing over the article. She clapped her hands over her mouth and her shocked eyes fell upon the Slytherin table across the room. 

“What does it say?” Harry asked, fed up with being out of the loop. 

“Antonin Dolohov,” Ron said after a long pause. He turned _The Daily Prophet_ for Harry to see the headline.“He’s escaped from Azkaban.” Harry was unsure he’d heard him correctly. Sure, he saw Dolohov’s mug on the stained page in front of him, and every gloomy face in the room only reaffirmed that statement, but it couldn’t be right. One of Voldemort’s right hand men, a man who'd captured and tortured too many people to count, the man who’d killed Remus Lupin and Molly Weasley's brothers, couldn’t be walking free. 

“No.” Harry whispered as he took the newspaper for himself. He reread it over and over again, hoping the words would change and that this was just some sick joke. But no, every letter remained the same. 

_High ranking Death Eater Antonin Dolohov has escaped from Azkaban...prison officials baffled...aurors are looking right now...practice safety and lock your doors…_ His hands were trembling so hard he could only read snippets. He didn’t want to read the whole thing anyways. It was too hard to stomach. 

“How d’you think he got out?” Ron asked. 

“I don’t know,” Harry mumbled, returning the paper to him. He didn’t care how he got out, he only cared about Dolohov’s possible goals; vendettas he might want to take care of. As his mind raced with questions and worries, his gaze landed on one person, and one person alone: Draco Malfoy. It was well known that the Malfoys were _very_ connected to this man, and there were rumors going around Draco still sympathized with Voldemort's cause. 

He wasn’t the only one looking at the Slytherin. The entire Dining Hall gawked at him sitting in the farthest corner of the room, away from every soul at his table. He had yet to notice that he was the object of everyone’s frightened stare. His eyes were glued to his own newspaper, and Harry wasn’t surprised. If he felt anxious, he couldn’t even imagine how Malfoy felt. His porcelain skin was a shade paler than it usually was, the permanent angsty scowl on his face had deepened, and he sat so still Harry couldn’t tell him apart from a statue. Finally, he looked up and saw every student gaping at him like an animal at the zoo. 

Even from across the room Harry could see his cheeks flush pink and his chest heave as he began to hyperventilate. Malfoy hastily gathered his things and stormed out of the room, slamming the doors shut with a loud bang. That was all it took for the tension in the room to snap like a twig under a misplaced footstep. The Dining Hall erupted into a roar of whispers, everyone turned to their friends to discuss the bombshell that had just been dropped. 

“Do you think he’ll come here?” It was Neville. He and Seamus had scooched down the bench to speak with them, breaking Harry out of his trance. 

“Would he even dare? McGonagall will probably make sure this place is extra guarded now, an attempt to break in would be suicidal,” said Hermione. 

“Breaking out of Azkaban is suicidal too,” Harry pointed out. Hermione sighed, but said nothing and nodded in agreement.

“All we can do is wait and see. He must want revenge on some of the people here, you especially Harry. Professor Flitwick too, he did defeat the man. If he wants to come here, he will,” Seamus said. 

“Well that’s scary,” Ron interjected. 

“But it’s true,” Harry said. “Like he said. All we can do is wait.” He then returned to his book to distract his tumultuous thoughts. 

\---------------

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left Hogwarts in a hurry. They had promised to go and visit Hagrid that day, it was late in the afternoon, and this was the only time they had before dinner. Harry was sifting through his bag, paying no attention to where he was going. 

“Harry watch out!” He heard Hermione say somewhere in the background, but it was too late. He crashed into a large man with a thick beard, all black clothing, and muscles the size of Harry’s head. Instead of sneering at him and making a snide comment, the man grinned down at Harry. 

“Harry Potter! It’s about time, ain’t it?” There was a hint of familiarity in his dark eyes, Harry was sure he’d seen this man before, maybe in Hogsmeade somewhere, but they’d never spoken and Harry couldn’t recall his name. “Proudfoot,” He said after a moment’s silence. “I was a friend of Tonks.” 

“Oh yeah! You’re the auror from Hogsmeade a few years ago, I remember you!” Ron said, his eyes lighting up with recognition. Harry’s heart sank, not only from the mention of Tonks, but because he had hoped auror’s would never need to grace the halls of Hogwarts again. 

“I wish I could say it’s good to see you,” Harry replied. 

Proudfoot’s grin faltered. “It’s true that these are less than ideal circumstances. Let’s just hope we catch Dolohov before he causes any trouble, eh?” 

“Do you know where he might be heading? What could he possibly want?” Hermione asked. 

“Legally, I’m not allowed to discuss that. But I’ll tell you this, you should keep an eye out for yourselves and be prepared for anything. Now I hate to cut our little chat short, but I’m afraid McGonagle will have my head if I’m late to our meeting.” 

“I understand, she once threatened to turn Ron and I into pocket watches,” Harry told him with a slight grin. 

“Then I’d better hurry!” He waved goodbye to them and went on his merry way. 

“This is bad,” Harry said once Proudfoot was out of earshot. 

“Well duh! He probably wants revenge against you and Flitwick, I mean, what else could he possibly want?” Hermione said. Harry sighed and hung his head as they continued their walk. 

“I just wanted an easy, boring year. Is that too much to ask for?” He grumbled. 

“Apparently it is,” Ron answered. They left the stone corridor and entered the great outdoors. A cool fall breeze tugged at their scarves and fallen leaves crunched under their feet. Hagrid’s Hut sat at the bottom of the hill, quaint as ever. Little pumpkins sat on his stoop, although it was still a bit early to be decorating for Halloween. They came to the fork in the path, the one that led to either Hagrid’s Hut, the Quidditch pitch, or back to Hogwarts. Harry was about to lead Hermione and Ron down the middle path, when out of the corner of his eye he caught a flash of light blonde hair in the distance. 

Draco Malfoy stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, staring into the woods. Harry froze in his tracks. He wore a thin, white, button up shirt, black trousers, a Slytherin tie, and he held his wand loosely at his side. 

“I wonder what he’s doing?” Harry said aloud. His tone wasn’t harsh or anything, just curious. 

“Who cares. Harry let’s go,” Ron said, trying to push him along. 

“What if he knows something?” Harry said, unable to tear his eyes away. His gut was telling him to go over.

“If he does he certainly won’t tell us. We’re already late, we shouldn’t keep Hagrid waiting,” Hermione tried to reason, but whatever they said, Harry didn’t fully hear or comprehend. He found himself stepping off the dirt path and heading down the grassy hill that led to the forest. “Harry!” Hermione called, but it was useless, Harry kept going. Begrudgingly, they trudged after him with frowns. 

“Malfoy!” Harry shouted, earning his attention. His celeste blue eyes were red and wet like he'd been crying, and Harry faltered in his stride. 

“What are you doing Potter?” He snapped in a broken voice. 

“What am I doing?” Harry said. “You’re the one staring into the Forbidden Forest like a sketchy bastard. What are you doing?” He searched Malfoy’s eyes for a hint of guilt, for a hint of malevolence, for a hint that he’d been up to no good. But Malfoy averted his eyes and turned back to the dark forest. 

“None of your goddamn business, that’s what. Go away Potter.” 

“You heard him Harry,” Ron chimed in, “Let’s leave.” 

“No,” Harry declared. “What do you know about Dolohov?” Malfoy glared daggers at him, but Harry didn’t back down, he held Malfoy’s intense glower until he said something. 

“How dull must you be to think I had anything to do with that?” 

“You had everything to do with letting Death Eaters into the castle before.” 

“You little…” Malfoy trailed off, took a deep breath, and tried to speak without an angry tremor in his voice. He failed. “Listen, Potter, I never wanted to see that man again. From the minute that war was over, people have shunned me, shouted at me, thrown things at me, my broom’s been broken and they kicked me off the team. Some first years carved “Death Eater” into all of my books. People tell me I deserve a Dementor’s Kiss. Why would I go out of my way to prove them right?” 

“Do you expect us to feel sorry for you?” Hermione asked with a hint of rage. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt. Maybe the sinking feeling in his stomach was in fact pity, maybe it was guilt for accusing him on no fair basis, maybe Malfoy was manipulating him, he didn’t know. But he could relate to Malfoy, there had been multiple times where he’d been rejected by everybody and their aunt. Something he said did cause Harry to soften for just a moment, but it was fleeting. 

“Not at all. But I won’t stand here and let you insult me Potter. For the second time, get awa-” 

Malfoy was cut off by a blinding, soundless explosion from within the forest. Harry had no time to shield his eyes from the pure white light that sheathed everything in its vicinity. Without warning, the ground disappeared from under him. He felt like he was being flung through the air millions of miles per hour, and he didn't feel he would slow down. He felt like he was being torn apart and reassembled over and over. He couldn’t open his mouth to scream for Ron and Hermione. He felt excruciating pain everywhere, but at the same time he was numb. Harry lost track of how long they were encased by the white light, how long the agony lasted, but out of nowhere: it stopped. 

Harry felt solid ground again and after a moment or two, the light dimmed and human-shaped shadows stood about a meter away from him. His vision was blurry and splotchy, he could hardly make out any defined shapes. All he could see was a collage of green and brown. It took awhile to regain composure. He was so dizzy that if he took one step, he would surely fall over. Harry stood frozen until he didn’t feel like he’d just gotten off the worst roller coaster ever. The trees became separate from one another, and he could make out Ron’s face and body in detail. 

“Ron, Hermione?” He called. 

“Over here,” Hermione squeaked. Harry took one step forward, and while it made his stomach churn, he remained vertical. 

“Are you guys alright?” He asked. 

“Barely. Where do you think we are?” She replied. For the first time, Harry took in their surroundings. His stomach dropped; Hogwarts was nowhere to be seen. They were smack dab in the middle of a forest, one green and lush with warm sunlight piercing through the leaves. However, whatever that bright light was, it had scorched the ground along with every tree in that immediate location. 

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed. 

“I agree,” Harry said, but he wasn’t too concerned about the forest. Malfoy had been in that blast and he was nowhere to be seen. Harry looked everywhere, and a few feet away, saw him lying on the blackened forest floor. 

“Malfoy,” He said, dashing over to check on him. Harry kicked his shoulder gently, but Malfoy showed no sign of reaction. “Malfoy?” He repeated. This time he shook his shoulder; but Malfoy still didn’t move. “Malfoy!” Harry rolled him onto his back and let out a horrified gasp. Blood dripped from every orifice on his face: his mouth, his nose, his ears, and even his tear ducts. 

“Is he dead?” Asked Hermione, peering over Harry’s shoulder. 

After checking his pulse, Harry shook his head and replied, “No. Not yet at least.” 

“I say we leave ‘im,” Ron said, earning a sharp glare from Harry. 

“Listen, I hate him too, but that doesn’t mean we should just leave him to bleed to death in the middle of a random forest.” Harry withdrew his wand, pointed it at Malfoy, and said, “ _Allevio.”_ Malfoy absorbed a stream of baby blue light into his skin, and when Harry went to lift him, he was as light as a feather. He draped Malfoy’s arm over his shoulder and refocused on figuring out what had happened. 

“Where the hell are we?” Ron wondered. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I think I'm going to publish new chapters every Monday and Friday. If I don't I've either forgotten or didn't have time. Thank you all for reading!

“We're not at Hogwarts, that’s for sure,” said Hermione, “And I don’t think we’re in the Forbidden Forest either. It’s far too bright.” 

“Think we’re still in England?” 

“There’s only one way to find out. I don’t want to stick around for long. Whoever, or whatever, created that light might be here too,” Hermione said. 

“I reckon we walk until we meet somebody or reach a town,” Ron suggested. 

“What else can we do? _Point me,_ ” She said, and her wand redirected her so she faced north. “This way, and don’t lag behind...Ronald.” 

"Oi!" Ron ran up from behind and spun her around. She laughed and screamed so loud it frightened birds away. 

"Guys, be quiet! We don't know what's out here with us!" Harry whispered, and they piped down. 

"Sorry Harry!" Hermione apologized. She took Ron's hand and guided them on their aimless trek through the woods in silence. Harry limped along with Malfoy in the back. Even as light as a feather, his lanky body was hard to maneuver. They walked for many miles through the forest. Malfoy grew paler and colder, and Harry's arm was going numb from carrying him. Harry could see that Ron was trying not to complain about his feet. Hermione also grew tired. 

"Guys," she said as they approached a small pond, "Let's rest here. I can't take another step." 

"But Malfoy-" 

"He hasn't died yet, has he?" Harry took his pulse again, and shook his head no. 

"Then he can wait a little longer. Set him against a tree or something." She said as she went to the pond with Ron. Harry turned his back and rolled his eyes, but did as she suggested. He lowered Malfoy down and made sure he wasn't going to tip over. 

"Your friend looks awful." 

Harry whirled around to see a young man in a red scarf gaping at Malfoy. He was skinny, he had jet black hair, and big ears; he wore a brown jacket, baggy pants, and a shirt as blue as his eyes. He didn't emit a dangerous aura, but just in case, Harry pulled out his wand. "Ron, Hermione!" 

The Stranger examined Harry head to toe and tilted his head in confusion. "What are you wearing? You look ridiculous." He said, looking at his jeans. Hermione and Ron took Harry's side and withdrew their wands. 

"Tell us your name," Harry ordered in the toughest voice he could muster. 

The Stranger shook his head. "Sorry, I don't trust oddly dressed teenagers in the forest. Now lower your...sticks...and tell me what you've done to this boy." The three exchanged hesitant eye contact, but in the end, decided it was best to comply. Harry lowered his wand, but stayed ready to cast a spell at any moment. 

"We haven't done anything," Ron said. "We were at school, there was a flash of light, and we were brought here. The light must've done it to him." 

"So, you claim a magical light did this to him? And you expect me to believe that?"

"Hopefully. We don't know where we are and we've been wandering through these bloody woods for hours. You must know a way to help us," Ron said. The Stranger placed his hands on his hips and glanced over his shoulder like he was looking for something. 

"Alright," he huffed, "I'll take a look at him. Lucky for you I'm a physician's apprentice." The Stranger said. He pushed past Harry and knelt down beside Malfoy to prod at his face. "That is _a lot_ of blood. I'm surprised he's still alive, but he doesn't have much time left. This is a magical ailment, I guess you were right about that. I'm sorry, there's little I can do here, but if we bring him to Camelot Gaius might be able to help." 

Hermione's face turned ghost white and her jaw dropped. "I'm sorry, did you just say we're taking him to Camelot? As in _the_ Camelot?" 

The Stranger cocked an eyebrow and replied, "Yeah...where else would we go?" 

"No, it can't be!" She gasped, fanning her face with excitement. "Are we in Camelot?!" The Stranger gave Ron and Harry a confused look, but they were as baffled as Hermione.

"Hermione, isn't that the setting of the King Arthur myths?" Harry asked. 

"Don't you ever read? Yes! Merlin's beard! This must be a dream!" 

"Excuse me, what did you just say?" The Stranger interjected, eyes wide with fear and bewilderment. 

Hermione ignored him. "What's your name?" She asked. The Stranger held back, but if he was going to tell them, he never got the chance to do it himself.

"Merlin!" A man shouted in the distance. Harry didn't think Hermione's mouth could get any wider, but he was wrong. "Merlin!!" The man yelled, this time much louder and angrier. 

The Stranger stood up and said, "Listen, I don't know who you are, but something is very wrong here. I'll take your friend to Camelot and in return, you'll tell me exactly how you got here and where you're from." 

The rhythmic sound of a horse galloping drew closer, and a handsome blonde man draped in chainmail rode over. "Merlin! What the hell are you doing? We're late enough as it is," the man said before dismounting his steed and storming over. Harry couldn’t keep himself from staring at Merlin with a slack jaw. Were his eyes and ears deceiving him? Was this Merlin? The most powerful, famous wizard of all time? The Merlin he’d written a ten page essay on for Binns? The Merlin on five of his chocolate frog cards? The Merlin in the painting watching over the Grand Staircase? It couldn’t be; this Merlin was far too young and far too beardless. 

“Merlin,” Hermione gasped like she was out of breath. She’d always been a nerd of the Arthurian legends. Over the years, she’d talked Harry’s ear off about them (of course he’d paid little attention). 

“I can’t believe it,” Ron said in the same starstruck voice. Both Merlin and his blonde companion looked very uncomfortable. 

“Who are these people?" The blonde asked, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. Harry realized the absurdity of his outfit; maybe they had stumbled onto some sort of Renaissance Fair.

“I don’t know,” answered Merlin. 

“Well,” the blonde said. “They certainly seem to know you. Tell me, what has my fool of a servant done this time?” 

“Nothing. Our acquaintance has been injured and Merlin offered to bring him to Camelot,” Harry explained, gesturing to Malfoy. The blonde’s breath hitched at the sight of him. 

“Of course. Merlin, share your horse. If we want to save this boy’s life we must be quick. Luckily, Camelot is close, ” The blonde said. He then turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione to shake their hands. “Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot. Now tell me, what are your names?”

Hermione clutched Harry's wrist so hard it hurt. “My name is Harry Potter,” He said before she could do or say anything to embarrass herself. “These are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin lift up Malfoy and freak out about how inhumanly unheavy he was. Because they were in the presence of the most famous wizard of all time, Harry didn’t hesitate to bring up magic. “Don’t worry about him, he doesn’t really weigh that little. It’s just a spell.” 

“Harry!” Hermione scolded, burying her face in her palms. He was unsure what he had done, but Arthur pulled his sword on him, and Harry knew it was bad. 

“Sorcerer!” Arthur exclaimed, holding the pointy end to his throat. Harry held his arms up in surrender and his face contorted with confusion. 

“Arthur,” Merlin said, shuffling over with Malfoy. “They aren’t from here, maybe you should go easy on them.” 

“They have magic, it doesn’t matter where they’re from, they’re dangers to everyone around them. You have violated the laws of Camelot and her people, I hereby place you under arrest for the crime of sorcery. What say you in your defense?” Harry's stomach dropped. He just had to open his mouth, didn't he? 

"Great," Ron said as Arthur tied their hands with rope. "We've only been here two hours and we're already being thrown in jail." 

But Harry's thoughts were in other places. "What about Malfoy? Are you going to throw him in jail?" He asked Arthur. 

"If he doesn't die on the way over, and if Gaius can get him to talk again, perhaps. The King will decide your fates'. Now start walking." Arthur explained, preparing to mount his horse. 

"This is ridiculous," Harry said, anger boiling up inside of him. "We haven't done anything wrong!" Arthur ignored him, pretending he'd never heard anything at all. 

"It's no use Harry," Hermione whispered. "If we really are in Camelot, and these men are really Arthur Pendragon and _the_ Merlin, by the sound of it, I think we've arrived during Uther's reign." Harry saw Merlin glance back at them with a curious gaze, he must've been eavesdropping. Hermione didn't realize and kept talking. "Magic is still outlawed and punishable by death. It won't even be legal for another five or six years, we might be in serious danger." Harry glanced at Arthur warily, he still had a hard time believing any of this was real. But if it was, Hermione was right: they were screwed. 

Merlin wasn't hiding the fact he was listening anymore. He fell beside them and whispered, "Alright, who are you? You talk and dress as if you're from the future. How do you know who I am? How do you know magic will be legalized?" 

Harry exchanged uncertain looks with his friends. Should they tell him? Would he even believe them? This could be some kind of fever dream for all they knew. But if they had gone back in time, confiding in Merlin might be the only thing to keep them alive. To make sure this wasn't all an illusion, Harry reached out and stroked the bark of a nearby tree. It was rough, and dirty, and sticky from dried sap. If this was an illusion, it was the most realistic one Harry had ever experienced, and he'd had his fair share of them. 

He narrowly avoided being swished in the face by Merlin's horse's tail, and replied, "You were right before. We aren't from here. I don't know if we've gone back in time, or if we've been taken to another dimension, or if this is all some crazy vision. All I know is that in our world, magic is legal; hidden, but legal. We're innocent, and I think I speak for all of us when I say all we want to do is heal him," he pointed to Malfoy, "and go home."

"For the record, I'm fine with leavin' 'im," Ron interrupted. 

"We heard you the first three times," Harry snapped. He looked into Merlin's eyes, pleading for him to believe them and stop Arthur.

Merlin looked unsure, but he eventually sighed and said, "I've experienced crazy enough things to believe it. I'll talk to Arthur and see what I can do, but no promises." Then trotted ahead to catch up with his master. "Arthur," Harry heard him say. "Maybe we should think about this. They're only teenagers…" 

Their voices lowered and all Harry could hear was mumbling. After a few minutes of trying and failing to understand what they were saying, he gave up, deciding not to stress himself anymore than he already was. He focused on the forest; the beautiful, verdant forest. Without lugging Malfoy around, he could take in the fresh air and not the aromatic scent of green apple shampoo. Just walking through the forest, Harry could tell it wasn’t ordinary. It was similar to being in the Forbidden Forest, but in place of an ominous, dark feeling, this forest felt whimsical and mysterious. 

“Do you really think we’re in Camelot?” Ron asked Harry.

“I’ve been asking myself that question this entire time. All I know is that this feels real and... look at that castle!” They left the cover of the woods and arrived in a small valley of wild grass and flowers. In the near distance, a castle as big and grand as Hogwarts stood dwarfing everything in the surrounding area. The thick forest had been blocking it from their view. It was built out of sparkling marble, the many towers were topped with grey stone, and red flags fluttered in the gentle wind. It was hard to have any doubts about where they were in its presence. Harry had only experienced such a rush of astonishment and awe once before: the first time he'd laid eyes on Hogwarts. No amount of words could describe the chill that went down his spine. 

“Yeah,” Ron said after a long silence, “I think we’re in Camelot.” They were so wrapped up in the view, they didn’t notice Arthur dismount and walk over holding a knife and wearing a sour expression. 

“Today’s your lucky day,” He said. “Merlin’s managed to convince you all to let you live...for now. Don’t take it for granted, not many sorcerers have come to Camelot free of chains.” Harry rolled his eyes, but let him cut the rope without any sass. 

"Is that Camelot?" Hermione asked, pointing to the castle. Arthur nodded yes. "It's beautiful." She said with sparkles in her eyes. Arthur gazed at it with her and his hardened expression softened. 

"Yeah, it is." 

“You know,” Merlin chimed in, “As much as I’d like to stand around and appreciate the view, we need to get moving.” 

“Since when did you start giving orders?” Arthur said, placing his hands on his hips and strutting over to Merlin’s horse. 

“Let’s see, one, two, no that’s three...since the day we met. Mount your horse and get a move on.” 

Harry had never seen a man as flustered as Arthur was at that moment. His face was bright red with anger and embarrassment. “Merlin I swear,” He said as he climbed into the saddle.

Merlin flashed him a fake grin and said, “Yeah yeah you’ll put me in the stocks. You need to be more original Arthur, it’s starting to get predictable.” Arthur scoffed, and Hermione let out a quiet giggle. It was amusing; sure, but Harry wondered why Arthur let his servant speak to him like that. Surely such insolence would have most people thrown in prison during this era. 

“Try not to fall behind,” Arthur said, and they began moving again. It wasn’t a far walk to the gates. There was one more small patch of forest, but after that, the entrance of the city was a clear shot ahead. Harry could see the guards’ shields and red capes from down the road. After the guards bowed to Arthur, and after they passed through the gates and into the bustling lower town, that’s when the reality of their situation hit Harry.

This was a real place. There were real men and women doing real things and going about their real lives. Their tattered clothes were as real as Harry’s ironed clothes, their dirty skin and tangled hair as real as his recently bathed body. The horrible stench of waste and smoke filled the air, and the sound of merchants shouting over each other echoed down the street. Chickens, pigs, cats, and stray dogs roamed at will. Camelot was real, and he was there whether he liked it or not.

As they made their way to the castle, Harry, Ron, and Hermione got their fair share of stares. They must’ve looked like aliens to the people of Camelot; what, with their jeans and sweatshirts and modern glasses and all. Harry was glad when they reached the castle’s decadent courtyard. There were less people to gawk at him. 

“Merlin, take them to Gaius. I have to report to my father, but I’ll be there as soon as possible,” Arthur said once both he and Merlin were dismounted. 

The Prince turned to leave, but Merlin grabbed him by the elbow and said, “Don’t tell him about them. Please.” The look they shared was deeper than eye contact, they were having an entire conversation with their eyes alone. 

“Of course not,” Arthur spoke softly. “Go, the boy doesn’t have much time.” Merlin let go of him and he disappeared through the ornate double doors of the castle. After some snide remarks, Ron helped get Malfoy down from the horse, but let Merlin carry him instead. 

“This way,” Merlin said. He led them to a spiral staircase inside a stone tower. They arrived at a wooden door with the words “Royal Physician” written on a plaque above the door. Merlin kicked it in and shouted, “Gaius!” There was no response. Merlin grumbled to himself, carried Malfoy inside and laid him down on the lumpiest bed Harry had ever seen. “Gaius!” He shouted again, much more impatient. 

“Quit shouting boy, I’m busy!” An old man came hobbling down a staircase with a book in his hands. As he descended, Harry took in the quant chambers. Shelves of potions, poisons, and ingredients lined the walls. Every surface in the room was cluttered with books and papers and beakers and cauldrons. In the back of the room there was an open door leading to a small bedroom. The orange sunset spilled through the small windows and lit up the stone floor. 

“Gaius we need your help,” Merlin said. The physician took one look at Malfoy and inhaled sharply. 

“Oh my,” He said, setting down the book and rushing over. “That’s a lot of blood.” He felt his pulse and said, “At least he’s alive.” 

“Can you heal him?” Inquired Harry. Gaius scaled him up, obviously curious about his clothing, but he said nothing to insinuate it. 

“Perhaps. How did he get like this?” Gaius asked. He reached into a bucket and pulled out a sopping rag. After wringing it out, he began to wipe away the coats of dried blood all over Malfoy’s face. 

“We aren’t sure,” Hermione said. “We found him standing by himself and Harry went to talk with him. There was this burst of blinding light. When it was gone we were in a strange forest and he was unconscious and bleeding. We were hoping you could do something.” 

“I think it was caused by magic, both the injury and the light,” Merlin told Gaius. 

“Me too. Would you fetch me a canteen of water?” 

Merlin ran into the back room and came back out with a canteen. Gaius took it and poured a meager amount of water past Malfoy’s cotton-candy-pink lips, then pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “He’s very cold. Merlin, get me a vial of blood-stopper. He can’t afford to lose anymore.” 

Merlin did what he was told, and Gaius began to poke and prod at Malfoy’s body. He checked his pupils, he examined his hands, and opened his mouth to see his tongue. What he needed to see Malfoy’s tongue for, Harry hadn’t the faintest idea. Seeing Malfoy, who was typically so guarded and poised, so helpless and limp sent Harry’s stomach churning. He knew he shouldn’t care whether he lived or died; by the disinterested look on Ron’s and Hermione’s faces, Harry knew they didn’t. 

Gauis took a small bottle of pink liquid from Merlin and administered two drops into Malfoy’s mouth. “That should take effect in about a minute. If the bleeding is temporary, it should stop for good.” The physician explained. 

“Is he going to live?” Harry asked. 

“I believe so, his heart rate is steady and I don’t sense any lingering dark magic. But whether or not he’ll wake is a different question,” Gaius said, reaching for a mortar and pestle to grind a strange herb. 

“Merlin, you know what to do with this.” He said after he finished grinding the plant. Merlin took the mortar and muttered a small incantation Harry didn’t recognize. The dust turned from a dull green to a shimmery gold. “Merlin!” Gaius scolded, tilting his head at them. 

“Don’t worry,” Merlin replied. “They have magic." He smeared the dust under Malfoy’s nostrils, eyes, and on his lips. 

“Quite a strange bunch you’ve brought, haven’t you?” 

Right then, the door flung open and Arthur entered, giving Harry, Ron, and Hermione a wide berth. “How is he?” Arthur asked, going over and standing at Merlin’s side. He stole a quick glance at his servant, and then paid all his attention to Malfoy. 

“He’s alive. This dust should help heal any internal wounds he may have. Ah, the blood-stopper worked.” The continuous trickle of blood came to a stop. Gaius used the rag to clean up the last traces of blood, and they could see every inch of Malfoy’s snowy skin once again. 

“Great, now we can talk about these three,” Arthur said.


	3. Chapter Three

“Tell us everything you know. Spare no details," Arthur said. 

“Do we really have to tell this story again? This’ll be the third time,” Ron complained. 

“Not only have I spared your lives, but I am also the Prince of Camelot. You’ll treat me with respect and do as I say. Now, sorcerers, tell us how you got here.” Harry realized it would be futile to argue with this man, so he cooperated. 

“This is going to sound mad, it _is_ mad, but I think we’re from the future. We were born in the twentieth century, we’re eighteen, and we attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We were on our way to visit a friend of ours when we found Malfoy at the edge of the Forbidden Forest and decided to go talk to him,” Harry explained. 

“You decided to talk to him, we wanted to go to Hagrid’s,” Hermione interrupted. ”You know what, maybe I should tell it to avoid your obvious bias. Anyways, we were speaking with Malfoy when all of a sudden there was this explosion of blinding light. The next thing we knew we were in your forest and he was bleeding. We decided to walk until we found people, and we found you. You have to believe we mean no harm, in our time magic isn’t a crime.” 

Arthur huffed at them and shook his head. “These sorcerer’s are insane. This is the biggest pile of lies I’ve ever heard.” He looked to Merlin, hoping he would agree with him, but his servant was not as skeptical. 

“Alright,” Merlin said, ignoring Arthur. “Prove it.” 

Hermione jumped into action. The first thing she did was remove her left shoe and hold it out. “Ever seen a shoe like this? A shoe with soles and nylon laces and fake leather? I bet you haven’t, because it was made in 1997.” 

The scowl on Arthur’s face vanished and his eyes widened with wonder. He brushed past Merlin and took it to examine for himself. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” he mumbled, flipping it over and running his fingers over every inch. He handed it back to Merlin, and he got serious again. “But I’d like to see more proof of these outlandish claims.” 

That was when Harry remembered his watch. He took it off and handed it over to Arthur. 

“What is that?" Merlin asked, peeking his head over Arthur’s shoulder. 

"It's called a watch. It tells the time every second of each day. They were invented in the 17th century, I think," Harry explained. 

“I can’t believe it, Arthur I think they’re telling the truth. Have you ever seen such a thing?" Merlin asked. 

Arthur shook his head no; he grew pale as he realized that this was not a whacky, elaborate scheme. “I-I don’t know. I’ve experienced insanities before, but time travel? That’s so far fetched I can’t even wrap my head around it.” 

“But one thing is certain, King Uther should not know about this. He won’t react well to four teenage sorcerers sent from the future. Do you agree Arthur?” Gaius said. Arthur took a look at Merlin, who seemed to be on board with keeping them secret, and let out a sigh of discontent. 

“Fine, but if they make one wrong move I won’t hesitate to go to my father. We’ll get to the bottom of whatever is going on here, but it’s getting late and I’ve had enough of this day. Merlin, with me,” He said, turning on his heel to march out the door. 

“Hold on,” Merlin said. “Where are they going to stay? We can’t put them in any guest rooms and leaving them at an inn would be foolish.” 

“Do you want us to sleep in the woods then?” Ron quipped, Harry could tell he was tired of them acting like they weren’t even there. Harry was tired of it too. 

“Actually-” Arthur began like he was considering it.

Merlin cut him off before he could continue.“No, no. Don’t listen to anything he says, he’s a dollophead. Hold tight, I have an idea." He shoved past Arthur and ran off down the hall to do whatever he needed to do.

Arthur puffed his mouth in irritation, but said nothing. Awkward silence festered in the room. Arthur refused to make eye contact with Harry or anyone, not even Gaius. Harry could feel his dislike for them across the room. He wanted to ask so many questions about Camelot and Arthur, but he was terrified he would say something wrong and be thrown in the dungeons, so he remained silent and stared at his shoelaces like they were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Do you think they know we’re gone?” Ron asked out of the blue. 

“Huh?” Harry said. 

“We’ve been here for awhile now mate, do you think people at Hogwarts have noticed we’ve disappeared? You think they’ll go to Hogsmeade without us? What if we can’t get back and they forget about us forever?” Ron elaborated, looking like he was in the middle of an existential crisis; to be fair, he probably was. “What if time there has stopped altogether?” Harry just shrugged. He’d been trying hard not to think about all that, and he wasn’t going to start now. It was too mentally taxing. 

Hermione, on the other hand, tried to be more helpful. She grabbed his hand and rubbed his back gently. “Don’t torture yourself Ronald. We can’t control what’s happening back at home, we can only control what’s happening here. If time hasn’t stopped, then I’m sure they’ll notice we’re gone and look for us. And your mum will make sure we’re not forgotten, no need to worry about that. Just...don’t think about it, it’s easier that way.” 

“Now I’m thinking ‘bout me mum again!” 

That’s when Merlin reentered the room with a girl in tow. She was very cute, with dark curly hair, a freckled nose, and warm brown eyes. Although, she didn’t look very happy to be there. “Merlin what have you brought me here for? I’m busy!” Her eyes landed on Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and she froze. 

“You’re roping Gwen into this?!” Arthur exclaimed, throwing his hands up in anger. 

“Merlin what am I getting roped into? Who are these people with strange pants?” Gwen asked with alarm. 

“Nothing! Well, something, but it’s really important and I don’t know who else would help us,” Merlin said. Before she could say anything or walk out, Merlin began introductions. “Guenivere, this is Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Harry, Hermione, Ron, this is Gueniviere.” 

Gwen examined them with uncertain eyes. “Uh, hello,” She said timidly. 

“Hi,” They replied in unison. 

“Merlin, explain what’s going on please,” Gwen said, gazing at Hermione with curiosity. 

“To keep it simple, these four teenagers are wizards-” Merlin tried to explain, but he was cut off. 

“Sorcerers!” Gwen gasped, backing away from them. “What are they doing here? Arthur!” 

“I’m aware. I’m not happy either, but let Merlin explain,” Arthur said in a calm voice. Merlin gave him a nod of appreciation and continued. 

“They’re from very far away; they don’t know the customs of Camelot. It would be unfair to arrest them if they didn’t know magic is outlawed. Our problem is that we need to hide them from Uther, and they need a place to stay for the night. We’d send them to the inn, but they stick out like sore thumbs and we don’t want them running about without supervision," Merlin said.

“We’re eighteen you know, not children,” Ron muttered under his breath, but Merlin didn’t hear. 

“So what, your plan is to make me hide sorcerers from the King? How could this possibly turn out well?” 

“It’ll turn out worse if Uther finds them and kills four people who have committed no crime.” 

“Magic _is_ a crime,” Arthur mumbled, smirking at Merlin’s little eye roll. 

“Not relevant. Please Gwen, I wouldn’t have gone to you with this if it weren’t necessary,” Merlin said. 

“It may be necessary, but is it safe?” Gwen asked. Merlin’s silence gave the answer away. But Gwen looked at the three and sighed. “I mean...I guess they don’t look that dangerous.” 

“We’re not,” Harry said, “I promise.” 

She contemplated for a little while longer before stomping her foot and groaning with exasperation. “Alright Merlin! I’ll help you! But only because you’re my friend and I trust you! I can’t take all of them though, I only have enough room for two other people in my home.” 

“We’ll do it!” Hermione and Ron exclaimed before Harry could get a word in. He was unsure why they were so eager to stay with Gwen, but he was fine with it. 

Gwen was a little shocked by their energy, but she nodded in agreement and said, “OK then. It’s a bit of a walk though and it’s getting dark, so I should probably take you guys now. Uh, this way I guess.” She walked by Merlin and jabbed a finger in his face. “You owe me so many favors for this." She then continued with Ron and Hermione in tow. They each gave Harry apologetic looks, but Harry still didn’t get why they were being like this. What was he missing? 

“Alright,” Arthur said. “Where will you two sleep?"

Harry’s stomach dropped. Malfoy was so quiet, so still on the cot that Harry had pretty much forgotten he was there. If he woke up, Harry would probably have to share a living space with him. 

“Bollocks!” He exclaimed. He wondered if this was his cosmic punishment for every bad thing he’d done in his life. Maybe he deserved it if he’d been so foolish to let Ron and Hermione get the best of him like that. 

“Excuse me?” Arthur asked with raised eyebrows. 

“It’s an expression from my time. No offense to you,” Harry explained as his mind raced with scenarios of Malfoy hexing him in his sleep. 

“Moving forwards. Gaius, do you know of any place where these two sorcerers could stay for the foreseeable future?” Arthur asked. 

“Well, there is one place they could stay. A place with enough room, where the unconscious one will have constant medical supervision, and where I can keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t get up to trouble. But that depends on whether or not Merlin will give up his room for a little while." Gaius said, and everyone looked to Merlin for his answer. 

“Will I get to stay in a big fancy guest room?” Merlin asked, perking up at the prospect. 

“Don’t be ridiculous Merlin, that would be far too suspicious. You’ll stay in the servants quarters adjacent to my room. Then you won’t have an excuse for not doing your chores,” Arthur said, patting Merlin roughly on the shoulder. 

Merlin rubbed his shoulder and quipped, “I do my chores, you’re just ungrateful: ungrateful and messy.” 

“Careful Merlin, that’s borderline treason. Now go get your things so this sorcerer can get some sleep.” Harry watched Merlin hurry to his room with anger simmering in his chest. If only Arthur knew the truth about his servant which he treated so rudely. 

“I have a name you know,” Harry snapped, tired of feeling like a second class citizen. “My name is Harry, and I suggest you use it.” 

Arthur was astounded. “I’m not sure if it’s courage or idiocy that inspires you to speak to me, the Prince and man who holds your fate in his hands, like that. I’ve told you what’ll happen if you step out of line, and I intend to keep my promise.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Harry replied, itching to perform a spell and show him he wasn’t the most powerful person in the room by a long shot. 

“For pete’s sake, neither of you are as impressive as you think you are. Arthur, go wait out in the hall, you behave too rashly about this sort of thing. Harry, take this chunk of bread and go to your room. I’d like to work in peace!” Gaius said. He threw a piece of bread at Harry, making him realize how hungry he was. Harry tore into the bread and went to the back room where Merlin was packing a small bag. He didn’t have much to take to his new room; only a few shirts and scarves. 

“Thank you for doing all of this,” Harry said. “Protecting us from Arthur, giving up your bed, everything.” 

Merlin grinned at him. It seemed nothing could put him in a bad mood. “I’m happy to help. Us magic folk have to stick together, right?” 

“Definitely,” Harry replied. He watched with curiosity as Merlin put a fat book into his bag. It was bigger than his transfiguration textbook, and that was saying something. “What’s that?” He asked. 

“This? It’s a spellbook Gaius gave me a few years back. It's filled with every spell you could ever need,” Merlin said. “You want to take a look?” He held it out for Harry to take, but he rejected it. Since Harry wasn’t at school, the last thing he wanted was to read a spell book.

“You’re taking it to Arthur’s room? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Harry asked. 

“It’s not that hard to hide things from him. I’ll be fine,” Merlin replied. He went to leave, but paused in the doorway. “By the way, there’s a few mice living here, so if you hear squeaking or feel something walking on your chest, that’s what it is.” He left without another word.

Harry was afraid to move, unnerved by the idea of a rodent scurrying over his feet. Hogwarts had spells to keep pests out, but he doubted Camelot would have such a treatment. Who would’ve thought that living in a real medieval castle wasn’t as glamorous as it might seem? 

He fell onto the bed and looked around at the tiny room with a strange appreciation. The great and powerful Merlin had also lived in a closet (albeit a little bigger than Harry’s). He was glad to find a shred of solidarity in that. After finishing the bread, Harry fell back onto the thin, unwashed pillow and grimaced. Even his mattress at the Dursleys had been more comfortable. Then again, he was sleeping on straw so was there really a comparison?

Yet, in the midst of all his discomfort and overwhelming thoughts, his weariness caught up with him. He was on the verge of sleep. He blew out the candles with an incantation, and let sleep wash over him. 


	4. Chapter Four

All of this was madness. Arthur had just finished dealing with his disaster of an engagement to Princess Elena, and now a group of time traveling sorcerers were on his doorstep. He had a hard time believing any of what they said. He’d encountered many strange things before: the afanc, a dragon, even a troll; but time travel was impossible. That "watch" and those fancy shoes had been weird, but that wasn’t enough to convince him. He was of the belief that these four teenagers had been drinking at the tavern and wandered into the forest on accident. He was still regretful about not turning them in. The only thing holding him back was Merlin. 

He didn’t know why Merlin was so passionate about protecting the sorcerers. All he knew was that he looked into his pleading eyes, and he just couldn’t say no. Things had been different ever since the failed wedding, and Arthur had to admit the blame fell on himself. He had realized where his heart truly laid and he was doing his best to redirect it. Yet, Merlin had been adamant about sparing them, and the last thing he wanted was to disappoint him. 

So there he was, in the middle of the forest, searching for the area the sorcerer's claimed they’d arrived. According to the black haired boy with the glasses, or “Harry”, the forest had been blackened from whatever light had brought them there. They had begged Arthur to come, but he refused. He wasn’t letting them leave the city until he was certain they were trustworthy. Merlin had also asked to come, but to avoid distraction, Arthur had put him on babysitting duty with Gaius (much to Merlin’s displeasure).

As Arthur drew closer and closer to the Valley of the Fallen Kings, he was relieved he had nothing to worry about if he got into a fight, but the absence of Merlin’s nonsensical chatter made him feel alone and unrelaxed. He was on full alert; what if the sorcorers had been a way for an enemy to lure him into a trap? What if they were hurting Merlin? Gaius? The idea of that was enough for him to freeze up and consider turning back. 

“No, no, that’s ridiculous,” Arthur muttered to himself before continuing on the path. It wasn’t long before he stumbled upon the place they spoke of. He saw a blackened tree out of the corner of his eye and veered off the path to investigate. His horse crossed the line from the normal forest floor to the charcoal ground, and a violent shiver ran down his spine. No birds sang, no wind blew, and not a single leaf rustled. The sorcerors had been honest; everything here was dead. 

Arthur dismounted slowly, nervous to set foot on such a cursed place. There was no doubt in his mind magic had done this, and there was no doubt in his mind that it was evil. He stroked a tree with his finger. Not a trace of ash was left on his skin. This material wasn’t soot, it wasn’t anything, it was just black. Arthur had never seen anything like it in his life. He ventured away from the tree and to the center of the cataclysm. Just standing there made his stomach uneasy, and it wasn’t the sausage Merlin had served him for breakfast (at least he thought so). It was the aura of the place that was so offsetting. Arthur wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. 

He examined the area inch by inch, looking for any sign of what could’ve caused such a thing to happen. He saw two things that might have any significance. On the ground a meter away, there laid fragments of what seemed to be a golden necklace. He picked it up and tried to determine what it’s shape was meant to be, but it was so broken he had no clue. That wasn’t the only thing shimmering against the sable ground. Arthur discovered a silver ring in the shape of a serpent and skull, it was quite beautiful and expensive looking. 

“Perhaps it belongs to one of the sorcerers,” he said, running his thumb over the cool metal. He spent another few minutes waltzing around, looking for other objects of interest, but nothing came up. He was disheartened by the lack of clues, but he’d traveled farther for less in the past. It wasn’t all a loss. He now knew that the teenagers weren’t completely dishonest. In fact, he wondered if they knew where this jewelry came from. 

Eager to leave the area, Arthur hastily mounted his horse and returned back to the beaten path to make the journey home. 

\---------------

When Arthur arrived back in Camelot, he was shocked to find Merlin leaning against the entry to the staircase that led to the Physician’s Quarters. He was supposed to be with Gaius making sure no trouble ensued. But Arthur wasn’t terribly upset. The sun was bright that day, casting shadows across Merlin’s elegant cheekbones. His hair fluttered in the gentle wind, along with his jacket and scarf. He was staring into space, probably lost in that strange head of his. Arthur couldn’t help but pause and stare from the back of his horse. He didn’t know how not to. If his horse hadn’t whinied he would’ve stared much longer. Arthur dismounted and strolled over, brainstorming ways to poke fun at him. 

“Merlin!” He called. Merlin looked up and met Arthur’s gaze. “What are you doing lazing about? Shouldn’t you be watching our fugitives with Gaius?” Merlin jumped, startled by Arthur, but glared at him in retaliation for being spooked. 

“Gaius sent me out here. I was waiting for you,” Merlin explained. 

“How come?” Arthur asked. Arthur studied his expression; his eyes, trying to figure out what mess had occurred while he was gone. 

“The blonde one they call Malfoy, he’s awake,” Merlin said. 

“Really? That fast? Gaius said he might be like that for weeks,” Arthur said with a cocked eyebrow. 

“Well apparently Gaius was wrong. He woke up and his friends....actually I’m not sure if they’re friends...they explained what happened. Let’s just say he didn’t take it well,” Merlin said. From his tone, Arthur could tell that was an understatement. 

“Nobody would. Has he calmed down?” 

“No. That's why Gaius advised me to warn you. He’s abrasive to say the least, and we’re afraid your personalities are going to clash. I don’t want you whipping out your sword the second you get offended,” Merlin said. 

“I can control myself you know!” Arthur replied. Did Merlin really think that low of him? 

“Pffff!” Merlin laughed before he could think and stop himself. Arthur took a small step forward, invading his personal space and causing his smile to fall. Merlin pursed his lips and Arthur heard his breath hitch. The tips of his ears turned dull red and Arthur couldn’t subdue a slight grin. 

“You should know Merlin. You test my limits everyday,” Arthur said in a low voice. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Which is exactly why I know _not_ to let you into a room with a sorcerer who has an ego almost as big as yours, without warning. Speaking of which, we should return to Gaius. I’m sure he’s grown impatient.” He brushed past Arthur, leaving tingles where their elbows touched, and disappeared through the archway. Arthur followed close behind, dazed and breathless. But he recovered in good time; he’d gotten used to that feeling over the years. 

They walked in and the tension in the room hit like a brick wall. The three sorcerers sat on the staircase, glowering at the blonde boy across the room. This Malfoy character had his back turned on them, but he too wore a sour pout on his face. Gaius sat at his desk in the middle of the room reading to escape the coldness between both parties. As much as he didn’t want to be there, Arthur was happy to relieve Gaius from the awkwardness. 

“Ah, you’re back. I’m glad to see you safe your highness,” Gaius greeted once he saw Merlin and Arthur out of the corner of his eye. 

“I’m glad to be safe,” Arthur answered. He stood beside Merlin in the entrance, scared to venture into such a den of hostility. Malfoy looked over his shoulder the moment Gaius referred to Arthur as “your highness”. Arthur could tell he was different from the others from a mere second of eye contact. His gaze was sharp, calculating, judgemental, and assertive all at once. He furrowed his eyebrows with displeasure, like Arthur had personally dishonored him by just standing there. 

“And who are you supposed to be? That has to be the stupidest gettup I’ve ever seen...besides Weasley’s outfit to the Yule Ball,” He said with a sneer. Arthur was shocked by the sheer disrespect, so shocked he couldn’t even think of what to say. 

“Shut it Malfoy, that’s Prince Arthur of Camelot, the one we were trying to tell you about,” Ron snapped. Malfoy turned around on the bed to properly size Arthur up. 

“Of the Arthurian legends? That makes sense seeing he’s here,” Malfoy said, gesturing to Merlin. So he knew Merlin too? Arthur looked at Merlin, perplexed as to why four sorcerers from the future recognized him. It brought a sinking feeling to Arthur’s gut that he couldn’t shake. Merlin was bright red and avoided his inquisitive gaze. When Arthur was going to ask him what Malfoy was talking about, he was interrupted. “I thought you’d look like a warrior, but reality is often disappointing isn’t it?”

Rage began to bubble inside of Arthur. Nobody, _especially_ not a sorcerer, could speak to him like that and get away with it. “I beg your pardon? I am the Crowned Prince! You will show me some respect!” 

“Why? Because you wear a golden hat sometimes? Where I’m from that means nothing. Legends or not, to me you're just a muggle with a pokey stick and chain link fence for armor,” Malfoy declared. Arthur strode towards the sorcerer with a dark expression, but he restrained himself. He wanted to show Merlin that he wasn’t as impulsive as he had implied. 

“I could have you in the stocks for such insubordination. I’ve already done you a favor by bringing you here and hiding you from my father, so shut your mouth and show me some gratitude.” 

Arthur could hear Hermione’s, Ron’s, and Harry’s chuckles from the staircase. Malfoy could hear them too. His face burned pink and he said, “I don’t care. Throw me in a jail cell if you want, anything to get away from these three. It’s one thing to be trapped hundreds of years in the past, but to deal with these buffoons as well…”

Infuriated by his reluctance to let go of his ego, Arthur was just about ready to lose it. Before he could do anything he would later regret, Merlin placed a gentle hand on his arm. “Did you find anything in the forest?” He asked. Arthur looked into his forewarning eyes, and like magic, his anger was soothed. His face muscles loosened and his urge to punch something dissipated. 

“Not much. But something strange happened there, that I’ll admit,” Arthur said, fishing for the necklace fragments and ring in his satchel. 

“So you believe us?” Hermione asked. 

“Maybe. Can tell me what these things are?” He asked. The three came over to see what he held in his hand. Malfoy remained isolated on the bed. Hermione squinted at the broken necklace and recognition dawned on her. 

“Harry, take a look at this,” she said, taking the pieces from Arthur’s hand and ignoring the ring. “Do you think it’s a time turner?” 

Harry shook his head in disbelief. “Looks like it, but that’s impossible. They were all destroyed during the War.” 

“What else could it be? I’m sure there were some that were lost in time, unable to be found and destroyed, this might be one of them. I’m more concerned about what broke it. Time turners are made with very strong magic, it would be difficult to shatter one like this,” Hermione replied. 

“So you know what it is?” Arthur asked. 

“Yes,” Hermione said. “Like we said, it’s a time turner. They’re enchanted necklaces that can send you back in time, but you have to be touching it for it to work, and they have limits on how far back you can go. I’m sure it sent us here, nothing else could, but how it did so and why it’s broken is very mysterious.” 

“May I see it?” Gaius requested. Arthur wasn’t surprised, it was the exact kind of thing he would be curious about. Hermione nodded and set it down on the table in front of him. He studied them for a moment and said, “This is fascinating! Time travel produced by magic? How is such a feat accomplished?” 

“The spellwork is quite complex, much more advanced than anything we would’ve learned at Hogwarts. I tried to read a book on it but not even I could understand it,” Hermione said, getting a little sidetracked from the issue at hand. It was odd, to say the least, to hear a person talk about magic in such a natural way. Times were clearly different in the future. How the world hadn’t fallen apart with the legalization of magic like Uther suggested it would, Arthur was baffled. Before Gaius and Hermione could get into a lengthy conversation about the functionality of time turners, Harry took a look at the Serpent Ring: his face went pale. 

“What is it Harry?” Ron asked with concern. 

Harry ignored him and hurried over to Malfoy with the ring. “Do you know what this is?” He asked forcefully. Malfoy didn’t even look at it, instead he stared at Harry defiantly and refused to say a word. "We all hate each other. I get it. But we're not in the position to keep our grudges right now. The sooner we figure out what happened, the sooner we might be able to go home and go our separate ways. So do you recognize this ring or not?" Harry tossed the ring at him, forcing Malfoy to catch and see it. He shot an icy glare at Harry, then took a glance. His scowl fell and his proud posture sank as he stared at the ring with dread. He looked more frightened than Harry. Malfoy didn't have to say anything for them to know he knew this ring. 

"Well? Spit it out," Said Ron. 

Malfoy didn't bother to retort. He gave the ring back to Harry. "It-it belongs to Antonin Dolohov." 

“No!” Hermione gasped before clapping her hand over her mouth. 

“I thought so. I was hoping otherwise,” Harry sighed, placing the ring on a nearby table. 

“I take it that's a bad thing,” Merlin noted. 

“It's very bad. Do you think he traveled back in time as well?” Hermione wondered. 

“Why else would his ring be here? Bet he had the time turner too. Bloody hell this keeps getting worse and worse,” Ron said, running his fingers through his carrot colored hair. Harry peered at Malfoy with suspicion.

Malfoy caught on and scoffed. “I had nothing to do with this. Why would I voluntarily trap myself with you, Potter?” 

“You’re not the most trustworthy person in our lives,” Harry said. 

“Really? Even after I lied to my family to save your life? Sorry I never lined up to lick your boots like everyone else,” Malfoy retorted. The cold eye contact between them made Arthur hesitant to move or say anything. He was afraid they would rip each other’s throats out given the cue. Harry’s nostrils flared and he took a step in Malfoy’s direction. 

“It’s not because of that. It’s because you bullied us for years, turned us over to Umbridge, kicked me in the nose, tried to kill Dumbledore...” 

Malfoy shot up and got so close to Harry he couldn’t continue his sentence. He shoved his finger in Harry’s face and said, “Saint Potter thinks he’s _so_ innocent. I’m not the only one here who’s made bad choices. You have no right to make snide comments!” 

“Guys!” Hermione shouted so loud it echoed. “Shut up! We have a death eater running loose with no idea of what he wants or where he is! The last thing we should be doing is getting into spats over the past, we should be dealing with the actual issue!” 

The boys took a few more seconds to scowl at eachother before Harry responded. “Sorry Hermione. You’re right. We should think of what to do next." Harry backed away. But that didn’t end everything. They continued to menace at each other for the rest of the conversation. 

“I’m sorry, what’s a death eater?” Merlin asked. He was just as lost as Arthur by the look of it. 

“They’re evil is what they are. Long story short they killed a whole lotta people, and Antonin Dolohov was one of their highest ranking members. Most of ‘em are in jail, some of ‘em are in hiding, and the rest are dead. Our man escaped from prison recently, at least we know where he went,” Ron explained. It was helpful, but Arthur was left with more questions. He hoped there would be time to get them answered. 

"He's not afraid to kill anyone who gets in his way. We have to find him before it's too late and stop him from completing whatever he came to do," Malfoy declared. Finally, something out of his mouth Arthur could agree with. 

“Absolutely. We know one place he's been, which is where we should start looking. You four should come too. If I missed anything it would be good to know. Do any of you know how to ride a horse?” Arthur said.

They all shook their heads no, everyone but Malfoy. “Is it like riding a broomstick?” Harry asked. Arthur was sure he hadn’t heard him correctly. A broomstick? That was too odd to make up. “If so, then maybe.” 

Malfoy huffed and said, “Don’t be daft, Potter. Being on a broomstick is nothing like riding a horse-” 

“And how would you know that?” Harry interrupted. 

“If you had let me finish,” Malfoy snapped, “I was about to say that my family owns many horses. My father would take me riding in the forest during the summer. I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure you should be leaving? You may need more time to recover before getting on a horse,” Gaius said. 

“I’m fine,” Malfoy declared. “Dolohov was a part of my life, I’m going to help find him.” 

“Great, no time to dawdle. Merlin, go ready five more horses.” Arthur ordered, ignoring the massive eye roll from Merlin. 

Hermione frowned. “We don’t have to take horses, we can try to apparate. It could be tricky, but it's efficient,” Arthur didn’t like the sound of that. Hermione realized they had no clue what “apparate” was, so she rephrased it. “We could teleport, you know, get there without traveling.” 

“I will not participate in the use of magic. We go on foot, that’s final,” Arthur said. The last thing he needed was to break another law. The sorcerers sulked, but none of them argued. 

“If that’s what you wish. Merlin, I’ll help you with the saddles,” Hermione offered. Merlin smiled from ear to ear, and Arthur would be lying if he said he didn’t get a fuzzy feeling whenever he grinned like that. 

“Us too,” Ron said, pointing between himself and Harry. 

So they all went to the courtyard (leaving Gaius behind) where everyone but Arthur dressed a horse, his was still ready from before. Even Malfoy saddled his own horse; though, he did it far away from everyone else. Merlin had to help Harry, Ron, and Hermione with theirs because they’d never done it before, but it still went by much faster than usual. Arthur wondered if servants were even a thing in their time. Nobody in Camelot would ever aid a servant doing a chore given to them by their master. He had so many questions, but not enough time. 


	5. Chapter Five

The trek to the site of the light was a long one. If it were only Merlin and Arthur, they would’ve galloped the whole way, but with three inexperienced riders that was impossible. Merlin stayed back to help them, and they stayed at either a walk or trot. Arthur was far ahead, and Malfoy hung behind talking to nobody.

Merlin switched between gazing at the back of Arthur’s golden head and daydreaming about the society these wizards came from. It was clear they were smart, resourceful, powerful, and Merlin wanted to know what a free life was like. Their comments about the death eaters had been interesting too, even in the future nothing was smooth sailing. Before he could ask them about it, Arthur fell beside Merlin. 

“We’re close,” Arthur said. “How do you think we should start looking for him?” Merlin was shocked. Arthur never asked for his opinion about these things, Merlin usually blurted them. When Arthur did ask, they were in a life or death situation with no clear escape. It was true he’d been acting different ever since his failed engagement with Elena, but Merlin assumed it had nothing to do with him. Why would it? 

“Not sure. Maybe our new friends have a spell or two to help track people,” Merlin suggested. Arthur’s stubbornness was expected. 

“Don’t be foolish Merlin! Who knows what they’re capable of, we have to play it safe,” Arthur whispered. Merlin bit his tongue and shrugged. He would probably use a spell anyways. 

“Alright then, if you’re unwilling to do the smart thing, then all we can do is look for footprints and hope he left a good trail,” Merlin said, not attempting to hide the sass in his voice. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, making Merlin smile with pride. There was nothing like pushing his numerous buttons.

“I’d choose that over trusting a sorcerer any day. At least it’s honest.” Merlin was torn between laughing or making a surly retort. How he continued to respect and care for such an ignorant man perplexed him. If only Arthur knew the harsh truth. Would he still say such things? 

“Yes, because Camelot is nothing but honest when persecuting magic. You remember Eredin, don’t you?” 

“Merlin!” Arthur snapped.

“Is this it?” Ron asked, unaware of the bickering. He pointed into the forest off of the main road where they could see black trees amongst the normal ones. 

“I thought we’d never get here,” Arthur said before dismounting his horse. “Look everywhere for footprints, that’s our best bet of finding him.” He began to examine the ground closely. Merlin watched him for awhile, noted the tension in his shoulders as he rested his hands on his hips, and decided that he had won their disagreement. 

Merlin felt smug for the few minutes he pretended to look for footprints, but subdued his smirk when it was time to use a spell. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Arthur’s eye across the black circle. Arthur quickly looked away, so Merlin did too. Certain that he wasn’t being watched, Merlin raised his hand and muttered, “ _Neosie thu tha swath Dolohov_.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw a glimmer of light on the ground and he went to make sure the spell had worked. Numerous footprints revealed themselves in the dirt. 

“What was that?” 

Merlin’s heart nearly burst out his chest. He looked over, saw blonde hair, and prepared for the world to collapse around him. But instead of Arthur’s deep, midnight blue eyes, he found Malfoy’s blueish-gray ones. 

“It’s just a spell, it shows me where the footprints are,” Merlin whispered so only he could hear. 

“Hm,” he replied. “Pottah! Granger! Weasley! Arthur! Get over here, we’ve found something!” The rest of the group abandoned their search and went to where they stood. Merlin pointed to the footprints which lead northeast in the direction of Camelot. 

“Nice Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed, clapping his shoulder. He appeared to have gotten over the argument. “How’d you find them?” 

“With my eyes. Come on, we should follow them,” Merlin said before whistling for the horses. He started walking before Arthur could inevitably make a comment along the lines of “ _I give the orders Merlin, not you”._

“These footprints are awful!” Ron said, having to squint in order to make out their dull outline. Before Arthur could register what was happening, he withdrew the stick he’d had yesterday and cast a spell. “ _Appare Vestigium,”_ He said. The imprints lit up like they had for Merlin’s spell, only this time they stayed illuminated, making each one impossible to lose track of. Merlin was impressed by the magic, but Arthur was not. 

“What did I say when we left the castle?!” Arthur shouted. 

Hermione glared at Arthur and hooked her arm through Ron’s. "He was trying to _help_. Let’s get moving before the magic wears off,” She said. So that’s what they did. Arthur was quiet as they ventured through the forest, this time on foot. He was stewing on his anger and it showed on his brooding face. Merlin wanted to try and talk to him, calm him down a bit, but knowing Arthur that would have the opposite effect. So he kept his head down and ignored it every time he felt eyes burning into the back of his skull. Most of the talking was done by Ron, Hermione, and Harry who would speak in murmurs and then burst out laughing. Merlin did speak to Harry during a lull of silence, though. 

“What are those sticks you carry?” He asked. He’d never seen any warlock or witch use such a tool. 

“You mean my wand?” Harry replied. He took it out of his pocket and handed it to Merlin. The craftsmanship was excellent. The thick base was carved to perfection and the rest of it was smooth to the touch. Despite its beauty, it felt weird in Merlin’s hand, like it was unbalanced and didn’t belong. 

“Wand?”

“Every wizard has one, but each wizard has a wand that’s unique to them. Mine is eleven inches long, made of holly, and has a phoenix feather core. Hermione’s is about ten inches, with vinewood and a dragon heartstring core. They must be rare in these times,” Harry explained. Merlin was captivated, he wanted to know how they worked, how they were made: how he could get one for himself. But with Arthur only feet away he couldn’t ask without sounding odd. 

“Interesting,” he coughed, trying to mask how excited he was. 

He must’ve failed miserably, because Harry’s lip curled and he said, “I could tell you how they work and stuff. I learned about it Fourth Year, but I still remember bits and pieces.” 

“I’d like that,” Merlin said. Gaius was rubbing off on him. 

“I promise it’s not very interesting, but if you want to know…” He told Merlin all he could. Harry wasn’t the best teacher in the world, and Hermione had to chime in a couple of times to correct any wrong information, but Merlin got the jist of it. Eventually Harry ran out of things to talk about, so all of them but Malfoy began to share funny wand stories. 

“Hey Ron, remember when you broke your wand in the Whomping Willow?” Harry called. 

“And he gave Flitwick that green bump? It didn’t go down for a week!” Hermione said in between giggles. Merlin didn’t have to understand a word they said, just watching her and Harry break down with laughter was amusing. Ron, on the other hand, wasn’t even smiling. 

“That’s not funny guys, I had detention for two days,” he grumbled. “Least I didn’t shove mine up a troll’s nose.” That was all it took to get them squabbling about who had the most embarrassing wand failure. They got into it, and Merlin found himself observing Malfoy, who was far off but clearly eavesdropping on the loud conversation. His face was riddled with the pain of exclusion, and Merlin felt bad, but he didn’t know what to say.

Out of nowhere, somebody rested their fingers on the small of his back. A shiver ran up his spine, and using the process of elimination, he knew it must be Arthur. He thought of lying and saying that Arthur had scared him, but he didn’t. 

“Merlin, does this seem strange to you?” Arthur muttered. 

“What?” 

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that we’re following these prints straight to Camelot. We’ve been walking for how long and they haven’t strayed once,” He said. 

“Maybe it’s just a coincidence,” Merlin reasoned. 

“Maybe, but we’re also near the spot we found the sorcerors in the first place.” He pointed to a pond hidden by shrubbery. It was certain, this was where Merlin had met Harry. 

“Do you think Dolohov followed them?” 

“It’s possible. I think I’ll ride ahead and see if these prints go anywhere else, I’d send you, but the sorcerors seem to like you for some reason.” Merlin was glad to see that Arthur had cooled off. 

“I can’t imagine why,” Merlin replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Me neither,” Arthur said, but he was also grinning. Just seeing him happy like that was enough to make Merlin giddy inside. He knew Arthur had feelings for Gwen, that he didn’t feel the same way when they looked at each other, but he was OK with fooling himself every now and then. Arthur moved his hand from Merlin’s back and handed him his sword. “In case there are bandits,” he said. 

“What if there are bandits where you’re going?” Merlin asked as Arthur mounted his horse. 

“I’ll manage. Keep them in line. I’ll be sure to make haste.” And with that he galloped ahead at full speed. 

“Where is he going?” Ron asked. 

“He’s just riding ahead to see where the trail is leading us. We should keep going.” 

They kept walking, slipping between discussion about their separate worlds and tired silence. Somehow they got into a conversation about different types of trolls that will be discovered, and that was when Arthur came back. 

“Seriously,” Ron was saying, “these things are like twenty feet tall. We’ve seen our fair share for a lifetime.” Merlin was baffled. The only troll he’d ever met was shorter then some children he’d met; to have it be twenty feet tall would be a nightmare. 

“Are you sure it’s a troll? Maybe it’s something else.” 

Arthur came trotting up with confusion on his face. “Why are you talking about trolls?” 

“Oh it’s a long story. Don’t worry, I didn’t mention your mother-in-law.” 

“Well now you have!” 

“Anyways, what did you find out?” Merlin asked. He struggled not to laugh as Arthur turned pink with embarrassment. 

“Merlin-* _sigh_ *-he’s gone to Camelot, I’m certain. Get on your horses and follow me.” He gave Merlin a disapproving look, and Merlin smiled in return. Merlin helped the wizards onto their saddles, and without a second to waste they trotted towards Camelot. 

\----------------------

Dolohov had been in the castle. They followed Ron’s magical trail to the gates of Camelot, through the marketplace, and to the front doors of the citadel. Once they were inside, Merlin and Arthur agreed it was the best choice to send the wizards back to Gaius where it was safe. They begged to go the rest of the way, claiming they could hold up against Dolohov, but Merlin didn’t want to take a chance. They were only teenagers. They could do a tracking spell but that didn’t mean they could manage a fight if one broke out. 

So that’s where they parted for the moment. They’d spent hours going back and forth from Camelot, so by the time they began to follow the footprints through the castle, the sun was setting. Arthur and Merlin made sure to stay close to one another, knowing that a killer could be around any corner, but they never met him. They wound up in the library where Geoffrey of Monmouth was reorganizing a bookshelf. 

“Sire,” he greeted when Arthur came into the room. He ignored Merlin. 

“Redecorating?” Arthur asked. The room was even more disheveled than usual, and Geoffrey was more stressed than usual. 

“N-No sire. I had a disruption last night is all,” he stammered. His voice was raspy, his fingers were shaky, and his eyes darted everywhere. 

“That’s actually what we’re here to talk about. Did a man come in here last night? A sorcerer, dark scraggly hair?” Arthur asked, recalling the description the wizards had given them on the way there. Geoffrey flinched so hard he dropped the book he was holding. Alarm bells went off in Merlin’s head. 

“I think he saw him,” Merlin whispered to Arthur.

“Do you know where he went? What he wanted?” Arthur inquired, ignoring Merlin’s remark.

Geoffery shook his head and said, “I’m not sure if I should say. What if he comes back, your highness?” 

“Tell us what happened, and we can make sure he won’t come back,” Arthur said, speaking with soothing assurance. He rested a comforting hand on Geoffrey’s shoulder. That seemed to coax the answer out. 

“I was about to turn in for the night,” Geoffrey began, his voice quivering. “When he came in I didn’t think anything of it. His attire was strange, and I told him politely to come back in the morning, but he wouldn’t leave. He said he was looking for something and he wasn’t leaving until he had it. The closer he got, the more I could tell he was evil. I tried calling for a guard, but it was no use. He flung me against the wall without touching me and demanded I give him the genealogy on the Peverell family. I told him we had no such document, but he didn’t believe me. Have you ever been stabbed, your highness?” 

Arthur nodded. 

“Imagine that pain, but ten times worse. Imagine being forced to feel it over every inch of your body: inside and out. That’s the pain this man tortured me with. He wouldn’t stop until I told him where the records were. I recalled hearing of an old sorcerer by the name of Ignotus Peverell living in Cenred’s Kingdom, so I told him he might find what he wanted there. He stopped the torture and let me go, but he said that if I told anybody he’d be back to finish what he started, then he vanished into thin air. Oh my, he’s going to kill me isn’t he?” 

“Not if I have a say in it. Thank you Geoffrey, he won’t walk free, I guarantee it,” Arthur promised. He was grinding his jaw, which Merlin knew meant business. 

“But just in case, sire,” Geoffrey said. “Don’t tell your father. A big fuss will only let that man know what I told you.” 

“Of course not,” Arthur replied. As he and Merlin left the room, Arthur murmured, “What am I not hiding from my father these days?” Merlin knew how bad he felt. He had the utmost respect for Uther; sneaking around keeping secrets was the last thing Arthur ever wanted to do. Merlin touched Arthur’s elbow, making him pause and turn to look at him. 

“We’re doing the right thing, Arthur. Involving the King will do nothing but make things crazier than they already are,” Merlin said. 

“Are you sure? With the army of Camelot at our side we could catch him in no time!” 

“We’re not dealing with just any sorcerer here, this guy is from the future! He can disappear into thin air and torture people without even touching them! Swords and shields are useless! The only way we can fight him is with stealth, and you of all people should know that Uther is horrible at stealth. We’d be putting those kids in danger too,” Merlin argued. The eye contact they shared was tense, heated, but Arthur relented. 

“It’s infuriating when you’re right, even if it only happens once a year. And don’t you dare say another word: no smirking either! You look terrible when you’re cocky.” Merlin knew not to test his luck, so he did as he was told and followed after him in silence. They went to Gaius’s chambers to share their findings. 


	6. Chapter Six

Draco was pleased to have some peace and quiet for the first time all day. Potter and his unbearable friends had been talking their heads off from the moment he’d woken; so much that he could feel a headache coming on, but that might’ve been the remnants of the curse he’d been under. 

The day had been tiring, which was likely the only reason Weasley hadn’t opened his mouth in ten minutes. He and Granger were disgustingly close on the stairs, and Potter was at a table as far from Draco as possible. His raven hair was messier than most days, which Draco chalked up to their long amount of time outdoors; still, Potter needed to run a comb through that rat’s nest or smooth it over with a spell. He was so busy picking apart every aspect of Potter’s unkempt appearance that he didn’t notice Merlin and Arthur enter the room. 

“We have some good news, and we have some bad news,” Merlin announced as he strolled in. “The good news is that we know for sure Dolohov has been in the castle, and we know where he is. The bad news is that he has a day of travel ahead of us and he could be anywhere by now.” 

“It’s because we didn’t apparate like we should’ve,” Draco interjected. He thought he saw Potter give a slight nod of agreement, but he doubted it. 

“Thank you for the input, but it wasn’t necessary,” Arthur replied. Draco was one to choose his battles, and this one wasn’t worth fighting. He sat back and said nothing more. Out of all the people he’d met that day, Prince Arthur had to be his least favorite. He had this pompous, arrogant way of acting and it got on every last one of Draco’s nerves. Merlin, on the other hand, he respected enormously. Even Voldemort would have shown reverence to Merlin, if not for his policies, then for his power (not that he cared what Voldemort would’ve thought). 

“So, where is he? What did he come here for?” Granger asked. 

“I don’t know if this will mean anything to you, but he tortured our court genealogist for documents on the Peverell family. I know I’ve never heard of them,” Arthur said. All of them gasped: Draco, Potter, Weasley, and Granger. “OK, so it does mean something.” 

“It means something alright! He’s after the Deathly Hallows!” Weasley exclaimed. Draco wasn’t surprised to see Merlin and Arthur wearing puzzled expressions.

“The Deathly Hallows are a group of objects: The Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone, and the Elderwand. Get all of them and you become a Master of Death. Everything makes a little more sense now,” Granger said. Her brow was furrowed, which meant the gears were turning in her brain. 

“It does?” Asked Potter. 

“Yes, think about it. Dolohov breaks out of Azkaban and stumbles upon a time turner somehow. He realizes that if he gets the Deathly Hallows he might be able to trump death and bring Voldemort back, but in our time the Elderwand is buried with Dumbledore and Harry dropped the Stone in the Forbidden Forest before he died.” 

“What? You died?” Merlin interrupted, but Granger ignored him and kept going. 

“So he uses the time turner to go back and get the Deathly Hallows, but time turners are tricky to use if you don’t know what you’re doing. I think he tried to go too far back and the time turner couldn’t handle it, so it exploded and brought us all here, I doubt he meant to go hundreds of years into the past,” Granger said. Guilt began to eat at Draco. Should he tell them what had happened before Potter had come storming up to him outside the Forbidden Forest? He never got the chance to decide. 

“That’s make sense and all, but are the Deathly Hallows even a thing yet? _The Tales of Beetle the Bard_ was published in like, the fifteenth century, right?” Weasley wondered. 

Granger nodded yes. “You’re right. But it’s widely believed that the wand originated long before it was first recorded belonging to Emeric the Evil, it’s possible they’ve come into existence and Dolohov must know that.” 

All of that sounded like something Antonin Dolohov might do. His life was in shambles, the only cause he’d ever believed in was dead, and his only chance at redemption would be to relive his glory days. When they’d spoken yesterday he had certainly seemed desperate. Even so, it was just a theory and only Dolohov could confirm what happened and why it happened. They would have to tear the world apart looking for him, and Draco was desperate to take the lead. He knew how ruthless he could truly be. 

“Where was he going?” Draco asked. If they wanted to catch up to him, they would have to start now. 

“Cendred’s Kingdom. If he wants any genealogy records he’ll have to get into Cenred’s castle as well,” Arthur said. Just then, Gaius and Gwen came into the room holding a pile of clothing. Gwen had been in the room when they had returned, she and Gaius insisted on bringing them fresh “normal” clothes to wear. The last thing Draco wanted to do was put on a scratchy tunic, but he couldn’t bear to be in these clothes anymore. They reeked of blood and dirt. 

“Hello Arthur,” Gwen said, blushing. 

Arthur tensed up. “Uh, Guenivere,” he coughed. Draco felt bad for the poor girl. By the way she looked at him it was obvious she had feelings for the Prince. However, it was also quite clear Arthur had eyes for his servant, who had eyes for him in return: it was something only a blind man could miss. Frankly, Draco didn’t give a damn about their drama. It was none of his business and he had better things to worry about. 

Gaius saved them all from Arthur’s awkward behavior. He set the clothing down on his desk and said, “Cenred’s Kingdom? Why are you talking about that?” Merlin tore his gaze away from Gwen and Arthur to focus his attention on Gaius. 

“Dolohov has gone to Cenred’s Kingdom looking for information on the Peverell family. Do you recognize the name by any chance?” Merlin asked. His tone was low, discouraged. Very distinct from his previous cheery disposition. If Draco had to guess why, it would be jealousy. 

“Peverell? That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.” 

“So you know them?” Merlin said. 

“I met an old sorcerer by the name of Ignotus Peverell decades ago, before the Purge. He was quiet, secretive, untrusting. I’m unsure what became of him, but his family was from Cenred’s Kingdom I believe.” Gaius explained. 

“Which means the Deathly Hallows are out there,” sighed Potter. 

“It’s hopeless. If he can just zap wherever whenever there’s no way we’ll be able to catch up to him,” Arthur said. Draco, bothered by the unreasonable pessimism, figured he should keep him from being misinformed. 

“That’s not true at all. Apparition is complex, and Dolohov isn’t an idiot. He’d know better than to try and apparate to a place he couldn’t imagine, especially if it was an entire kingdom away. But he still has a major headstart on us and we should go after him immediately,” Draco said. Arthur seemed bothered by Draco’s assertive tone, but he didn’t mention it. 

“Alright then. Merlin, we leave at once. There’s still light outside, we should use it while we can. You four will stay here in Camelot until we get back. That’s an order,” he instructed. That went over as well as Draco would’ve imagined. 

“What? That’s ridiculous, we know what’s going on, we know this man, we should be the ones going after him,” Potter argued. For the first time in the many years Draco had known him, he agreed. It was stupid to be sent back to the middle ages and put under quarantine by some bossy muggle when they were the only ones who could help. He might’ve chimed in to aid Potter, but he valued his dignity too much to ever do such a thing. 

“As much as I’m confused by this whole ‘Deadly Hallows’ thing, I would much rather you stay here and keep a low profile. Besides, it'll be much more efficient with the two of us. We know the land and it doesn't take an hour for us to get one mile on horseback." Arthur said. Granger opened her mouth to fight, but he was faster. "I won't listen to another word. Let's go Merlin, you have to pack." He took his servant's elbow and dragged him out before anyone could say anything else. Gwen gave him a puzzled look, like she was expecting more from him. 

"This is bloody stupid! Does he think we’re children or something?" Ron complained. 

"No," Gaius said, shaking his head. "His father has raised him to be weary of magic. It might take some for him to get used to you being here." 

"That makes five of us," Potter said, causing Draco to bite his tongue subduing a laugh. God he hated it when Potter said something funny once in a blue moon. 

"He's a good man, really. He wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't," Gwen said. Granger raised a confused eyebrow at her, but Gwen didn't seem to notice, she continued on with a different subject. “It’s getting late, isn’t it? Hermione, Ron, I saved some supper in case you’re hungry.” Weasley lit up like a christmas tree. On a normal day, Draco would find his over joyous expression annoying, but he felt the rumble in his own stomach and couldn’t blame him. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Granger said. She took Weasley’s hand and they followed Gwen out together, leaving Gaius, Potter, and Draco alone together. Draco didn’t know what had happened to get him stuck with Golden Boy over there, perhaps it was karma. As if Potter was thinking the exact same thing, he shot a look at Draco and caught his gaze. There were bags under his eyes from the stress and fatigue of this crazy venture. 

“I have some food prepared too, if you’d like some," Gaius said. Draco could see the pot of...stew? And to think he used to complain about the food at Hogwarts. He tried to conceal his disgust. Gaius had been generous to him from the moment he’d woken and he didn't want to be too rude. 

"I'm starving, thank you," Potter said. Draco let him get his bowl first, he didn't want to stand there staring at the back of his head while he waited. Instead, he stared at the back of his head from his seat. It was hard not to; Potter had a piece of straw from the stables stuck in a tuft of hair. Draco had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing, there was no way he was telling him. 

When they were all settled, Draco was shocked Potter chose to sit on his side of the table (although as far over as he possibly could). It was clear he was trying to pretend Draco wasn't there by turning his cheek and keeping him out of his sight. Draco rolled his eyes, if Potter wanted to act like a child that was up to him. He looked around the room, hoping to find something that would spark his interest. There were all sorts of ingredients lying around, some looked familiar and some didn’t. 

“Is that sneezewort?” He asked about a small bouquet of white flowers on another table. He recognized it from potions class. 

“No,” Gaius said, “it’s dropwort. Very rare.” 

“Dropwort? That’s just an old name for sneezewort, it grows all over the bayous of North America, right?” Potter chimed in, probably recalling their lesson on international ingredient trades. Draco was surprised he remembered, he had been very busy flirting with Cho Chang that year.

Gaius paused. “North America?” Draco and Potter looked at each other, both unsure how to even begin. “Ah, touchy subject. So, what do you use dropwort for? How has the art of potion making changed?” 

“Not a lot,” Potter said. “But sneezewort is used in the be-be…” 

“The befuddlement potion, god Potter, pay attention we’ve reviewed it three years in a row now,” Draco chastised. 

“Oh yeah,” He said, ignoring the snide comment. He bit his cheek like he wanted to say something, but his hesitation was more bothersome than anything he could’ve said. 

“Go on spit it out,” Draco said. 

“Do you remember, fifth year, we made it for the first time in class and Neville accidently drank it,” Potter said, just on the verge of laughter. Draco did remember that day, not even he could hide a grin.

“I remember. He called Professor Snape a ‘large nosed greaseball’ didn’t he?” He couldn’t help it, he looked over at Potter again. His eyes were bright behind his glasses, he was the happiest Draco had seen all day. Not that he was keeping track, he couldn’t care less about Potter’s happiness. Draco still chuckled along. It was nice to have a memory from the past few years that didn’t bring a pit to his stomach. 

“He did, poor guy had detention for two weeks. Snape made him go down to the lake and collect pond slime. The Commonroom smelled awful the entire time,” he said. 

“Sounds like him. Severus always was a big bully, wasn’t he?” Draco said. He was surprised when the brightness faded away and into something distant. Potter focused on his bowl of stew like it was the most important thing in the world. 

“A bit funny coming from you, isn’t it?” 

Usually Draco could push whatever insults his peers threw at him to the side. But they never got under his skin the way Potter could. It was his condescending, “I’m better than you”, attitude he could never get past. Like he’d never done anything wrong. His feelings hadn’t been hurt like Potter had intended, but he sure felt like he wanted to hit something. Draco would’ve stormed into the bedroom, but he tolerated Gaius, and Draco couldn’t force a man he tolerated to be alone with someone as insufferable as Harry Potter for more than a few minutes. He rolled his eyes and also ate his food angrily. 

“So the Americas are continents rediscovered in the year 1492,” Potter blurted after a grueling two minutes of silence. 

“Rediscovered?” Gaius sounded very relieved to have something to talk about. Draco knew very little about muggle history. His family had never taught him about anything outside of the wizarding world; just another reason to resent his closed-minded father. 

“There was this guy called Christopher Columbus who said he discovered them, but it was really the Vikings...” he began, and Draco only listened some of the time.

\---------

After a terrible lesson on the history of a continent Potter had a primary school’s education on, it was time for bed. He and Draco took turns sorting through the pile of clothing and choosing what they wanted to sleep in, which was refreshing because Potter’s hoodie smelled worse than the Hogwarts owlery, and Draco’s white shirt still had dried blood on it. Potter had picked a tan, long sleeved shirt with laces in the front and pants akin to scratchy sweats. Draco had picked the exact same thing in black. Not because he wanted to match, but because everything else was either sleeveless or the length of his body. Medieval apparel was horrible, to say the least. 

Then came the other hard part. There were three beds, which was convenient, but deciding who slept where was the problem. Draco was at a crossroads: he could share a space with an old man he barely knew, or share a space with Potter, which he’d imagined years ago and decided he would never do unless he had no choice. It didn’t help that Mr. Entitled had grown attached to a bed that wasn’t even his and refused to stay with Gaius in the main room. Eventually, after a deadlock had been reached, the physician snapped. 

“You know what, both of you are staying in the closet! I don’t want to hear another word for the rest of the night!” He proclaimed much to their unhappiness. It took a moment to set in, but they soon understood and conceded. Through a shrinking spell (which amazed Gaius) Draco got his bed through the door then waited for Potter to move his so there was enough space between them. When the beds were normal sized and well positioned, Draco laid his dirty laundry out and drew his wand. 

“What are you doing?” Potter asked as he pulled back his ratty blanket. 

“These clothes are dreadful, I’ll wear them to sleep but not in public.” He was _not_ embarrassed to wear this in front of Potter, who had the fashion sense of a house elf.

“No one cares what you wear, as long as you’re not naked, I nor anyone would want to see that,” Potter replied. 

Heat crept up the back of Draco’s neck and he said the first thing that came to mind. “I hope not.” Potter was just as red and just as speechless as him now. Draco couldn’t deal with the awkwardness, so he pretended like he’d never said anything and cast the Scouring Charm to clean his clothes.

Silence choked the room after they climbed under their respective covers and blew out the lights. Sleep tugged at Draco’s eyelids, but the thought of Potter lying just feet away from him kept him awake and nervous. He knew Potter didn’t trust him, at all, and even in the dark stillness he could tell that he was thinking hard. Would he get up in the middle of the night to try and find baseless evidence that Draco had done something wrong? Only time would tell. He did his best to ignore his paranoia and go to bed on the world’s worst mattress; he was about to succeed when he was interrupted. 

“I can’t sleep,” Potter complained.

“Doesn’t mean you have to bother me,” Draco grumbled back. He thought Potter took the hint, but after a few minutes of peace he spoke again. 

“That curse you were hit with was pretty bad. We thought you were dead when we first saw you,” he said. Draco was at a loss. Why was he bringing this up?

“I’ll wish I were dead if I don’t get to sleep soon.” Draco said. He rolled over on his shoulder and looked towards the window, turning his back on Potter. He heard an irritated huff from across the room. 

“What I’m trying to ask is…” he hesitated, but in the end continued. “How are you? Do you feel different?” 

Draco wasn’t sure how to react. To think that he of all people would even care, god, nobody had asked him how he was in a very long time, even if it only had to do with an injury. He wasn’t touched at all, he told himself despite the warm feeling in his chest. It was strange how Potter had gone from hating him at dinner to this. 

“Uh, I feel fine I guess.” 

“Hm. The dark magic was strong, I’m surprised it didn’t damage you more,” He said. 

“We still have time. Maybe I’ll turn into a bloodthirsty nargle,” Draco replied, remembering Luna Lovegood’s nonsensical rantings he’d overhead one too many times. He could hear Potter trying to hide laughter, but his chuckles echoed through the room. 

“Stop it,” he said after catching a breath. “That’s mean.” 

Draco was amused, confused, and feeling a bit prideful. He couldn’t tell if Potter disliked him or was attempting to be an acquaintance to make this whole adventure bearable. 

“I am a bully after all,” Draco said: the laughter stopped. 

“What I said earlier...some stuff happened with Snape last year, and it’s still raw. I didn’t mean to start an issue. The last thing I want is to argue the whole time we’re here, it’s already crazy enough,” he said, and Draco could tell he meant it. Potter was a confrontational person, so if he said he didn’t mean to fight, he was being honest. 

“Agreed,” Draco said. It got quiet again fast. Draco bit his lip, he’d been sitting on a secret for awhile, but he hadn’t felt secure enough to share it until now. “If I tell you something, you have to promise not to say anything.” He was a little shocked at himself; was he seriously about to confide in Potter? This day just kept getting wilder.

Potter seemed to feel the same way. “Sure,” he said uncertainly.

“It’s about Dolohov. Right before we were sent back in time, I spoke with him, that’s why I was near the Forbidden Forest,” Draco admitted. Potter’s shadow sat up faster than a blink. He lit his wand and glared at Draco from across the room. 

“And you didn’t tell us?! Don’t you think that would’ve been nice to know?” He said, quiet enough to not bother Gaius but loud enough to get his anger across. 

“This is why I didn’t tell you, Potter. You barely trust me as it is. Tell me you wouldn’t have assumed I was working with him and I’ll apologize,” Draco said. Potter’s hardened face softened, and he didn’t answer what Draco had said, meaning that Draco was right. 

“Alright then. What did he say? Why did he try and talk to you?” Potter asked, sinking back down in his bed. 

“My family has been friends with him for as long as I can remember, before I was even born. Even in prison when he hadn’t even met me, we managed to exchange letters, and he would somehow send me gifts on my birthday. He was like an uncle, or an older cousin. When he broke out and started working with Voldemort and my family again, he became a sort of mentor. I would have trusted him with my life,” Draco explained.

“That’s why he came to Hogwarts. To see you?” Potter asked. 

“Yes. He said he’d gone to my father asking for help, but that he’d said no. That’s when he came and asked me, he knew I looked up to him once. But over the summer, I changed a lot of things about myself and I realized how evil he is. He gladly tortured and killed for Voldemort, and my parents let me look up to him. When he came to me, he thought he could manipulate me into trusting him and helping him. He refused to tell me what his mission was, but he did tell me he had a way to resurrect the Dark Lord.” 

“And you said no?” 

“Of course I did. I don’t want Voldemort back, I don’t want to be a death eater, all I want is to finish school and have a normal life. And for the first time ever I have the freedom to do that,” Draco said, trying to read Potter’s poker face. Draco wondered why he’d just told him all that, it would only make Potter judge him more. 

“Could he have cast the curse on you?” He suggested after a minute of silence. If he was judging Draco, he was hiding it well. 

“No, I don’t think so. I think it was just a side effect of the explosion." 

“Well, you should have told us you saw him at Hogwarts, that could’ve been helpful to know,” Potter said. He paused before adding, “But I get why you didn’t. I won’t tell anyone.” 

Draco wouldn’t thank him, so instead he said, “Great. Now turn off your wand and don’t bother me again.” He rolled back over on his side and waited for the light to go out. When it did, he was able to drift away into vivid, green tinted dreams.

  
  



	7. Chapter Seven

It was around ten when Merlin convinced Arthur to stop at an inn. They’d been traveling since sunset and had passed the border into Cenred’s Kingdom. Arthur wanted to keep going, but Merlin felt like he was going to pass out from exhaustion and pain at any moment. Earlier, when the darkness had completely fallen across the land, a large owl had come zooming towards Merlin’s horse. The bird had not hit them, but it spooked the stallion enough to buck him off and injure his wrist. Whenever he used it for more than gently steering his horse, agony attacked his entire arm. 

When Merlin knew they were nearing a tavern/inn, he had to take a chance for rest. “Please Arthur, you heard the wizards, Dolohov doesn’t know where he’s going. We should go after him when we’re well rested and have daylight to aid us.” It had taken some arguing, but there they were, hitching their horses outside of a cozy pub. 

“How’s your wrist?” Arthur asked as they stepped into the warm tavern. 

“It could be better,” Merlin replied, touching the purple bruise forming on his arm and wincing. Arthur looked at him with pity filled eyes. 

“Go take a seat at one of the tables. I’ll get some drinks, hopefully they’ll numb the pain,” Arthur said. 

“But I thought a prince couldn’t be seen buying drinks for his servant?” Merlin teased with a coy grin. Arthur didn’t find it as amusing. 

“Merlin!” He hissed. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll find a table.” Merlin said. It was a weekday night, so the pub was uncrowded. A few rough looking men occupied the tables, but the rest were empty. Merlin chose a small round table towards the corner. 

“Wow! That looks painful!”

Merlin looked up and beamed; Gwaine approached with a drunken smile.

“Gwaine! I didn’t see you!” He greeted cheerfully. It had been months since they’d seen each other. 

“I was brooding in a dark corner, don’t feel bad. So, what brings you here Merlin? And how have you hurt your arm?” Gwaine asked. Merlin knew Arthur would be mad if he told Gwaine everything, so he wouldn’t, but a little information couldn’t hurt. Gwaine was a good man. 

“We’re looking for someone and he’s come to Cenred’s Kingdom. I’m afraid that’s all I can say,” Merlin told him. 

“And your wrist?” Gwaine asked, reaching out across the table and gingerly grabbing his injured hand.

“My horse bucked me and I sprained it,” he said, shivering at the touch. He met Gwaine’s kind dark eyes and smiled, he’d always thought the man was handsome. 

“An interesting journey you’ve had,” Gwaine replied, flashing one of his gorgeous grins. 

“That is an understatement,” Merlin said with an airy laugh. Two tankards were slammed down on the table with such force Merlin was splashed with foam. 

“I see you’ve found Gwaine. How wonderful,” Arthur said, voice laced with venom. Merlin shot him a warning look, why he was already behaving like an ass was beyond him. 

“Arthur! I was wondering when you’d come over,” Gwaine said, oblivious to Arthur’s bitterness. He released Merlin’s hand and pulled a chair over from the closest table for Arthur. “Take a seat, please.” The Prince hesitated, but he sat down.

“Before you say anything,” Gwaine said. “What the hell happened with that wedding? Everyone from Nemeth to Elmet has been talking about it.” If Arthur had already been in a bad mood, that undoubtedly made it a million times worse. He hated to talk about the wedding. Merlin took a drink to prepare. 

Arthur took a glimpse at Merlin and said in the calmest voice he could muster, “It didn’t work out.” 

“It was about Gwen, wasn’t it? She is quite beautiful.” Gwaine said. 

“Yeah,” Arthur said, staring wistfully into his tankard. “I guess so.” Merlin wondered how words could hurt worse than his wrist. He was glad to have Gwaine’s all-over-the-place-thoughts change the subject so fast. 

“Who are you looking for? Describe him to me, maybe I’ve seen him,” he said. Merlin turned away from Arthur’s furious face. 

“You told him?! Merlin!” 

“Not everything!” Merlin defended. “It’s Gwaine, not a random bar thug. We can trust him.” Arthur didn’t answer. He rolled his eyes and drank his beer. The absence of a no was enough for Merlin to go ahead and tell him a little more. 

“His name is Antonin Dolohov, he’s tall, he has dark hair, and he’s a sorcerer. He’s very dangerous and we think he’s after some objects he shouldn’t have,” Merlin explained. He hoped Gwaine had something to tell them. 

“I’ve heard whispers of a man who fits that description. Never saw him myself though,” Gwaine said. Merlin lit up, finally something good was coming out of this conversation. 

“Really? Do you think he came to this inn?” Merlin asked. 

“It’s possible. I could ask around for you, I’m not on terrible terms with these men yet,” Gwaine offered. 

“Go ahead,” Arthur said. “It couldn’t hurt.” 

“Great! Tell you what, you boys finish your drinks and head off to bed. You look very tired. Me, I’ve slept all day, I’ll stay up, do the digging, and meet you bright and early to share what I’ve found,” Gwaine said. 

“Do what you want, just don’t get into a fight,” Arthur said. 

“Of course not,” Gwaine lied. He got up from the table and approached a booth of scary looking men. “Hello there gentlemen! Fine night for a drink, don’t you think?” Merlin couldn’t listen to the wreck that was Gwaine trying to be smooth. So he drowned it out and studied Arthur’s stoic face. The way his hands gripped his cup, the way his forehead wrinkled, the way his lips pouted ever so slightly, Merlin could tell he was deep in thought. 

“Is everything alright?” Merlin asked. He knew Gwaine had upset him with mention of the wedding and he wanted to make sure he wasn’t going overboard with emotion. 

“I don’t know Merlin,” Arthur sighed. “I have a lot to think about.” So he wasn’t mad, Merlin deduced, but he wasn’t happy. 

“Do you want to-I don’t know-talk about it?” Merlin asked.

Arthur looked at him tentatively, like he was debating whether to keep to himself or not. In the end he said, “Ever since the wedding, I’ve been thinking, and I think I want to end this thing I have with Gwen.” 

Merlin was dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to say, on one hand he had Arthur’s destiny which included marrying Gwen. On the other hand he had his own selfish feelings, which would hurt one of his closest friends and the future of Albion. This here was what one might call a conflict of interest, and Merlin knew it would be wrong to influence Arthur’s decision. 

“Why do you feel that way?” Merlin asked. He was taken aback by Arthur's sudden change in feelings. He’d defied his father and thrown off a marriage for Gwen, he was curious to learn what had changed. 

“I like Gwen, she’s nice, pretty, and I’d be happy with her. It would be...fine,” said Arthur. 

“And you don’t want that?” 

“I’m not sure. What if there’s someone out there who can offer something deeper, something stronger. I don’t want to wake up in the future filled with regret over what I could’ve had,” Arthur said. Merlin wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or his sleepy brain making him be so open, it could’ve been both. 

“It’s probably not wise for me to give you advice on this, it seems too personal,” Merlin said, not because he didn’t want to help, but because he would be unable to give an unbiased opinion on something so delicate. Arthur’s eyes sank with disappointment. Merlin knew he was struggling with this, and he hated to let him down, so he did the best he could. “I think you should follow your gut. Love has never been a logical affair, has it?” 

“No,” Arthur replied, looking at him with a fond expression Merlin couldn’t see because he was finishing his beer. “I suppose it isn’t.” 

Merlin wiped his upper lip and noticed that Arthur’s drink was also empty. “Are you ready to turn in for the night?” Arthur nodded and took the tankards up to the counter. He paid for the room, and after Merlin waved goodnight to Gwaine, brought him up to the second floor where they would be sleeping. He was very excited to get to rest, but when Arthur opened the door revealing a singular queen bed his stomach dropped. 

“Oh, I didn’t know there weren’t two beds,” Arthur said, his sharp cheekbones burning red. 

“That’s the innkeepers fault. Oh well, I’ll just sleep on the floor,” Merlin said, preparing to fight for the sheets on the bed. 

“You have a sprained wrist, I don’t think that’s wise,” Arthur said. 

“What do you suggest then?” Merlin asked, seeing no other solution. 

“I suggest that you sleep in the bed and I sleep on the floor,” he said. Merlin began laughing, it was one of his funnier jokes. But when Arthur didn’t even smile, Merlin realized he was being serious. 

“Really Arthur? Have you ever slept on the floor before?” Merlin inquired, uncertain if he wanted to listen to him complaining all night. 

“I’ve slept on the forest floor. Please Merlin, I insist. Just know it won’t ever happen again.” Arthur tossed his satchel onto the cold stone floor and Merlin knew he meant business. 

“Fine, as long as you don’t start whining the second you get uncomfortable,” Merlin warned as he tore down the drapes from the windows. 

“I won’t...what are you doing?” He asked as he watched Merlin try to tear the thin fabric with his good hand. 

“I’m trying to make a sling,” Merlin growled. He threw it down on the bed in frustration. 

Arthur chuckled at his incompetence. “Here, let me. Why don’t you go get me the sleeping roll from my horse?” Merlin handed him the drapery and did as he was told. When he came back up with the sleeping roll, Arthur had managed to cut a good chunk from the drapes. He helped Merlin get into a sling, and when all was said and done they crawled into their beds. Merlin blew out the candle on the bedside table, engulfing the room in darkness. Merlin fell asleep on his back, grinning to himself like an idiot. The only thing that could’ve made this better was if no one was on the floor. But Merlin happily took the sweet gesture he got, and drifted away with it. 

\------------

“Gwaine.” Merlin stood back as Arthur shook Gwaine awake. He was passed out at a huge table with five cups around him. 

“Gwaine!” Arthur shouted, kicking him in the leg. That did the trick. Gwaine bolted up and flailed his arms like he was trying to attack something, but only ended up knocking over his tankards. He finally saw Merlin and calmed down. 

“Good morning Merlin, sleep well?” 

“Fantastic. You?” 

“I dreamt of flying donkeys, so also fantastic.” 

Arthur stepped in before the conversation could go any farther off track. “Gwaine, I’d love to stay and chat but we’re in a hurry. What did you discover last night?” 

Gwaine yawned, and stretched, and smacked his lips before telling them what they wanted to know. “Not much. Some say they saw your guy in the closest village to here, a hunter said he saw a flash of green light in the woods, but besides that nothing.” 

“Wait,” Merlin said. “The green light in the woods, tell us about it.” It sounded magical for sure. 

“This hunter, he came in very late last night looking out of it, hours after you’d gone to bed. We drank together for a while before he told me he’d seen a flash of green light northwest of here. He’d been traveling home from the castle when it happened. After that he ran for his life and wound up here,” Gwaine explained. 

“Northwest of here you said?” Arthur double checked. 

“You ‘betcha. Say, I haven’t had a good adventure in awhile, could I tag along? I did get you the information after all,” Gwaine asked. Arthur didn’t seem to like the idea, but Merlin thought it would be wise to have another sword handy, so he interrupted as Arthur was about to say no. 

“Sure! It’ll be nice to have some fun company for once,” Merlin said. He pretended like he couldn’t see Arthur scowling at him. 

“Wonderful, I’ll grab my things and we can be on our way,” Gwaine said. He got up and hurried up the stairs. 

“That was completely inappropriate! I’m the Prince, you can’t undermine my authority like that!” Arthur exclaimed. 

“Yeah, well, I saw you were about to make a stupid decision so I did something. It’s good to have another fighter,” Merlin quipped. He had to admit, he liked the laws of the future where everyone had an equal say in things. 

“But Gwaine? Really? He’s an idiot!” 

“He’s also a skilled swordsman who’s been nothing but trustworthy and helpful to us.” 

“If you like him so much why don’t you go ahead and marry him!” Merlin tilted his head, was Arthur jealous? They stood staring grumpily at each other, both of them too stubborn to concede. Gwaine was the one to cut in on their stalemate. 

“I leave for one minute and you kids start fighting. What do I have to do to keep the peace around here?” Gwaine laughed, wrapping his arm around Merlin. Somehow, Arthur’s sour face turned even worse, and he stormed towards the exit. 

“Well?” He snapped. “Are we leaving or what?” 

Merlin felt bad for upsetting Arthur so much, so he shrugged Gwaine off and followed him out the door. They all mounted their horses and rode northwest in search of Dolohov. Even Gwaine must have noticed Arthur’s bad mood, he didn’t make a sound the entire trip. The first time someone spoke was when they came across something truly baffling about an hour away from Cendred’s Castle. 

“What are those?” Gwaine asked, scrunching his nose. They came to a halt at a small clearing near the entrance to a cave. Merlin could hardly believe what he was seeing. Six giant scorpions laid dead on the ground with no sign of injury, no lost limbs, nothing to indicate what could’ve killed them. 

“They’re Serkets I believe,” Merlin said, remembering his book of magical creatures. They were extremely venomous and dangerous if he recalled. Killing six healthy adults was a remarkable accomplishment. 

“This must be Dolohov’s work. Dismount and look for any sign of him,” Arthur said. Merlin clumsily dismounted his horse, unable to move gracefully with the sling. His wrist was more annoying than painful at that point. They scoured the ground, but it wasn’t long before Gwaine alerted them.

“Over here!” He called from in between two Serkets. Merlin and Arthur rushed over to see what he had found. It didn’t take a genius to know what he was looking at. There was a stick as sharp as a spear jutting out from the ground, it was coated in blood. 

“Figures. He goes up against six giant monsters and doesn’t get hurt, but low and behold a pokey branch was his downfall,” Arthur said, picking it up and examining it. 

“Makes me glad I hurt my wrist and not my ankle,” Merlin mumbled to himself.

“Look, there’s a trail,” Gwaine said, pointing to splotches of blood that led away from the dead scorpions. 

“I assume the injury slowed him down a measure. Back on your horses, we follow the blood until it stops,” Arthur commanded. 

They traced the blood for many miles. It was clear that Dolohov had no clue where he’d been going. The blood was all over the place, taking random turns, and in some cases looping back to where Dolohov had previously been. But, the trail remained strong and consistent until they found a cold fireplace. It was close enough to Cenred’s Castle that they could see the plains the palace sat on. Dolohov had been lucky to find it, considering the way he’d been traveling. Arthur alone dismounted. 

He felt the coals with his fingers and said. “They’re still a little warm. He must’ve stopped to treat his injury and rest, then continued his journey. Come on, we must not break pace until we arrive. He could still be there now.” From there, they rode so fast the wind drew tears from Merlin’s eyes. Arthur was in the lead like always, and he meant it when he said they weren’t slowing down. They stayed at the punishing rate until they came skidding to the gates of the castle. 

Immediately they knew something was off. The guards, who should’ve been awake and alert, were slumped on the ground with wide eyes and even wider jaws. The front doors were cracked open as well. Unable to take their horses any further, they all dismounted. Gwaine checked the guards pulses. 

“They’re dead,” he announced. Just like the Serkets there was no visible wound on their bodies. It was like they had up and died without being touched. They couldn’t sit around and mourn, they forgot about the guards and continued on inside. The carnage was unlike anything Merlin had ever seen. Stiff bodies laid everywhere. In the entry hall, in corridors, in the bedrooms; there was no escape. However, unlike the guards, the vast majority of the people had awareness in their eyes. They seemed to be paralyzed and nothing more. But the guards and those with weapons in their hands, their eyes were lifeless. 

“This is horrible,” Merlin said to Arthur as they passed a dead peasant who’d been foolish enough to fight back in a stairwell. This was worse than the Knights of Medhir, in Merlin’s opinion. The illness had only put people to sleep, and it had only been one spell with a simple cure. This was one man who’d killed and paralyzed a whole castle with nothing but a wand. 

“Which is why we must stop him. Here, the library is this way if I remember,” Arthur said, leading them down another body littered hallway. He was right. At the end of the hall, a door with a plaque above it that read “Library” was wide open. They sprinted into the room. Merlin was fully prepared to reveal his magic, and the other two had their weapons raised high. 

They got a single glimpse of Antonin Dolohov. He looked like a deranged killer. His stubble was unkempt, he had a strong jawline, and he had greasy black hair that needed brushing. If dread could be worn, that’s what he was wearing. Nothing on his body was colorful. He wore a black coat, a black shirt, black trousers, and black leather boots (one punctured and bloody). He held a large book in his hands. Merlin assumed it held the records of the Peverell family. Dolohov looked pleased with what he was reading. 

The door slammed behind them and alerted him to their presence. His gray eyes peered into Merlin’s, and he gave Merlin a vile smirk that sent chills down his spine. Gwaine lunged at him with his sword, but Dolohov vanished into thin air, leaving them alone in the tarnished library.

“Dammit!” Arthur yelled, chucking his sword to the ground in a fit of rage. “We came all this way for nothing!” Merlin dashed over to where Dolohov had been standing, astonished at how fast he’d disappeared. Magic of the future was a marvel. 

“What do we do now?” Merlin wondered.

  
  


\--------------

They didn’t stick around for long. Once they saw the people who had been paralyzed begin to move, they made a swift exit. Staying was pointless. They rode with Gwaine until they arrived at Camelots border, where unfortunately they had to go their separate ways. 

Merlin didn’t discuss what had happened with Arthur. He was fuming the entire way home, and poking the bear was always a recipe for disaster. The entire way to Camelot they only spoke two times to discuss directions, and that was it. Merlin didn’t know what they were going to tell Gaius and the wizards, he didn’t know what their plan was going to be, but he did know that they were one step further from everything they needed to accomplish. 

They arrived back in Camelot late in the afternoon. They were greeted by Leon, who was preparing to embark on a week-long watch with a company of other knights. “What’d you do to your arm Merlin?” Leon asked, approaching his horse with an amused grin. 

“A bird flew at me and my horse bucked me. I wish I had a more epic tale,” Merlin explained. Leon laughed and patted the rump of Merlin’s horse. 

“I’m sure Gaius will have it healed in no time. Now, don’t let Arthur forget it’s his turn to deal with the new recruits this week. I know he’s done it before,” Leon reminded him. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sire,” Merlin said.

“Looks like my men are calling for me. See you later Merlin, and be careful, his majesty looks grumpy,” Leon said. He waved goodbye and returned to the knights. Arthur had Merlin undress the horses and put them in the stables while he waited patiently (or impatiently, it was Arthur he never knew). Then it was time to deliver the bad news. They dragged their feet to Gaius’s chamber. When they entered, the room was filled with laughter. However when they saw Merlin and Arthur’s downtrodden faces, it came to a halt. 

“I take it things didn’t go as planned?” Gaius asked the moment he saw Merlin. He knew how to read him better than Arthur. 

“We missed him by seconds Gaius, seconds! Gwaine almost got him, but Dolohov was gone before he even scratched him. He got the records and everything,” Arthur fumed. 

“But he was there? You saw him?” asked Hermione. Merlin nodded, but Gaius was hung up on the other bit. 

“Gwaine was there? What did you tell him? Not much I sure hope,” Gaius said. 

“I tried to keep Merlin from-” But Arthur was interrupted. 

“He escaped? You let him escape? You should’ve killed him on the spot!” Malfoy exclaimed. 

“We had no time, besides, if we’d have gotten there any earlier he would’ve killed us,” Arthur retorted. 

“If you had any brains you would’ve brought the only people able to defend against his magic! I’ve seen Blast-Ended Skrewts more competent than you!” Merlin wasn’t sure whether to burst out laughing or intervene. Malfoy was getting more furious by the second, creating a boomerang effect between him and Arthur. 

“Malfoy!” Harry whispered harshly in a sad attempt to calm him. 

“Now he’s right on the path to the Deathly Hallows, which is the worst possible thing that could’ve ever happened! He’s going after the Invisibility Cloak too, if it couldn’t get any harder to find him!” 

Merlin couldn’t help but notice he was directing all of his passionate frustrations at Arthur, when in fact it had been Merlin’s injury and insistence they rest that had slowed them down. It was him who should be taking the heat. He was ready to step in, but he saw tears in Malfoy’s eyes and he didn’t want to touch it with a ten foot pole. Every other face in the room said the same thing. 

The only person who willingly did something was Harry, which confused Merlin. He couldn’t get a read on their relationship for the life of him. Harry grabbed Malfoy by the arm and dragged him into Merlin’s old room, where he slammed the door and left them all to stew in the tense air. Their muffled voices were audible through the door, but Merlin couldn’t make out any singular word. 

“So,” Ron eventually said. “We should probably decide what to do next, unless we want to be stuck here until Dolohov decides to kill us.” 

“You know,” Hermione said. “If we got the Deathly Hallows before he did, he wouldn’t be able to use them at all. Then again, they could be anywhere and we haven’t got a single lead. It might be crazy to try.”

“No, actually, it isn’t,” Merlin said. He could think of some people who might know some things; in particular, a big yellow reptile with wings. “Arthur has contacts in high places, people who might have information. Gaius, you have books on every strange happening since the dawn of time, I’m sure something about these Deathly Hallows has come up.” 

“And what will you be doing Merlin?” Arthur asked. 

“Your chores obviously. That’s the only thing I’m good at,” he joked. 

“Eh, debatable. But this isn’t your worst idea. You stay here and do some reading with Gaius." He breathed in anxiously. “I’m about to go talk to Gwen.” 

Merlin’s heart jumped and his mouth dried up. “Really? Right now?” He stammered. 

“Yes, this day’s already horrible. I’d rather do this on a bad day then ruin a good one.”

“Alright,” Merlin said. He might’ve said more, but he bit his tongue and let him go. It was Arthur’s decision and he had to respect it. After absentmindedly gazing at Arthur as he left, Merlin went up the stairs and grabbed as many books as he possibly could. Hermione’s eyes lit up at the sight of them, Ron seemed to die a little inside. “Let’s get to work.” 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, this chapter is a bit long

It was a long night of reading for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy. Merlin was summoned up to Arthur’s room not long after eight pm and Gaius had to go to the lower town to help with an outpatient. He didn’t come back until Ron and Hermione had left for Gwen’s house. 

Up until that point, Harry had never expected to be Malfoy’s therapist in his life, but he’d never expected to meet Merlin either; there was nothing that could surprise him anymore. Besides, he didn’t want to see Malfoy cry. He was so composed and emotionally repressed that seeing him break down was almost heartbreaking. 

“I know,” Harry had said. “It makes me angry he got away too, but this isn’t the end of it. There are still ways to find him.” 

Malfoy had remained silent, leaving Harry to stand there feeling uncomfortable. He hadn’t been ugly crying like in the bathroom during sixth year, no, his face remained still and emotionless as individual tears rolled down his smooth cheeks. 

Malfoy was good at reeling himself in. It had taken him a few minutes to rid himself of any visible emotion. “God that’s embarrassing,” he said in a broken voice. “This is what being a Hufflepuff must feel like.” 

Harry had rolled his eyes and said, “It’s not embarrassing, it’s normal to get emotional about a person who was dear to you. Being in touch with your feelings is good.” 

“Who knew you were such a girl Potter.” Malfoy had said. He calmed down quickly before they went out to rejoin everyone. They skimmed through dozens of books with nothing on what they were looking for. Harry had fallen asleep on the table in his day clothes, glasses and all, but when he woke up his spectacles were folded and placed inches away from his face. He guessed that Gaius had done it, as he was snoring in his bed feet away. 

About an hour later, after breakfast, Merlin had burst into the room with Arthur at his side. “We know the location of the Resurrection Stone!” He had exclaimed.

So there they were, in the courtyard, struggling to get their horses ready. Merlin didn’t say anything about how he knew where it was, and he didn’t tell Harry and the rest where it was at either. They were completely in the dark, which made Harry unhappy. He wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

“I get that we’re not from here, but I wish they would tell us what’s going on,” Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione. Malfoy was off on his own again. 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “And when are we going to see the rest of the castle? I’m tired of Gaius’s chambers. You guys get to go to the marketplace at least.” 

“It’s not as great as it sounds. It’s crowded, loud, dirty, and it always smells like a barn. I’d much rather stay in the Physician’s Quarters,” Hermione said.

“Don’t forget Hermione,” Ron added. “He’s sharin’ a room with Malfoy. I’d take a million loud stinky markets over that. How terrible is it Harry? Sleeping with Malfoy?” 

_Get your mind out of the gutter Harry_ he thought to himself as he tried to hide the fact he was blushing like a tomato. 

“I haven’t been _langlocked_ yet, but there’s still time,” Harry said. He glanced over at Malfoy, who was in his own world and stroking the nose of his speckled grey horse with those long, elegant fingers. 

“I wouldn’t put it past him. Anyways, Harry, the reason we haven’t gotten to see the castle is because you all look like aliens. I’m the only one dressed to blend in. I mean, for god's sake Ronald you’re still wearing a quidditch t-shirt,” Hermione said. She wore a loose white shirt, tan trousers, and her hair was pulled into a ponytail. Gwen must have given her the clothes. 

“You didn’t see our choices, they were awful,” Harry said, but Hermione was no longer paying attention. She looked at Merlin and Arthur across the courtyard. They were huddled very close together, speaking quietly and smiling. Hermione’s brow was bunched like she was suspicious of something.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” She wondered aloud. 

"I dunno’,” Ron said. “The Resurrection Stone probably.”

“I suppose you’re right,” She said, shaking her head at herself. Arthur finished talking with Merlin and waved them over. Harry struggled to walk with his horse, but managed to make it over. 

“We ride south for the Forest of Balor,” Arthur announced to the group. “It’s a lengthy ride, and with beginner riders we don’t expect to make it by nightfall. I’m sending Merlin to get bedrolls-” 

“No need,” Hermione said before Merlin could scurry off. “I’m sure we can think of something. He shouldn’t have to go back into the castle for no reason.” 

Merlin beamed. “That’s the first time anyone has said that!” He got on his horse before Arthur could force him to go get sleeping bags. “When we find a way to get you back to the future, can I come with you?” He asked as the rest mounted their steeds too. 

Arthur was not having it. “Absolutely not! Quit messing around and get going Merlin, now!” He didn’t mention the bedrolls again. Either he was becoming tired of fighting their use of magic, or he was waiting for their magic to fail so they would sleep on nothing but the forest floor. It was a coin toss. 

After an hour of riding, it became clear that Arthur and Merlin had been right about one thing: they weren’t going to make it by nightfall. Harry would take a broomstick over a horse anyday, thank you very much.

Anytime they went faster than a walk, Harry was certain he was going to fall off and make a fool of himself. It didn’t help that his palomino was the feistiest animal on the planet. Both Hermione’s black horse and Ron’s bay were calm, but Harry’s whinied and threw its head back every other minute. 

Then, out of nowhere, Dusty (the name of his horse) wouldn’t move another step forward. Harry kicked it’s sides, he clicked his tongue, he tried everything but Dusty still fought Harry with everything it had. Dusty began to dance backwards and rear up. Arthur, Merlin, Ron, and Hermione were too far ahead to see him struggling. He began to panic. What if he was thrown off and left to starve in the woods?

“This is just sad. The Great Harry Potter can fly on the back of a hippogriff, but he can’t even ride a horse.” 

Great. _Malfoy_ was there to rescue him. 

“It’s not my fault this horse is mad,” Harry grumbled. Heat burned all over his face from humiliation. 

“The horse isn’t mad, Potter, it’s sick of you,” Malfoy said. 

Harry scowled at him. “What could I be doing so wrong?” He sassed back. 

“For one thing,” Malfoy said. “You need to loosen your grip. Your knuckles are ghastly white.” Harry hated that he was right. He looked at his left palm; he’d been squeezing so tight his fingernails left indentations. All of a sudden Malfoy reached towards Harry’s hand, to which Harry slapped him away. 

“What are you doing?!” 

“Helping, dumbass. I can quit and let your horse loathe you for the rest of the ride, if you want.” 

Harry gave in; the price would be worth the outcome. They managed to keep moving forward as Malfoy reached over and grabbed Harry’s hand. The first thing Harry noticed was the temperature. Malfoy was so pale that Harry had always assumed he would be cold to touch; but no, his hand was soft, and warm, and left mild tingles under Harry’s skin. He helped him relax his hand and hold the leather in a much more comfortable way. 

“Doesn’t that feel much more natural?” Malfoy asked after he felt Harry’s knuckles soften. 

“Uh, yeah,” he replied as Malfoy let go. 

“Another thing. It’s a living creature, Potter, not a broomstick. Horseback riding is a team effort, you don’t have complete control over the horse, which means you have to trust it,” Malfoy said. 

“I trust it,” Harry said, lying to the both of them. 

“No, you don’t. If you did we wouldn’t be having this problem. You need to ease up. Your movements are too jerky and you’re too stiff. Lastly, you need to be more confident. Your horse can sense your hesitance,” Malfoy said.

Harry tried to do as he suggested. He relaxed his shoulders and back, then attempted to convince himself he knew what he was doing. It was like magic the way riding got so much easier. Dusty became much more pleasant to work with. 

“Why are you so far behind?” Harry and Malfoy were so far away Merlin had gone back for them. 

“Potter fell off his horse,” Malfoy lied.

Merlin gave Harry an amused look. 

“No I didn't!” Harry exclaimed, but Merlin seemed skeptical. 

“Just making sure all was fine,” He said. Harry glared at Malfoy, who sent a cheeky grin in his direction. The nerve of him. 

“Just wondering,” Malfoy said. “Where exactly are we going? I hate to be left in the dark like this.” 

“The Forest of Balor, I thought we said that,” Merlin said. 

“You did say that. We’re mostly wondering why,” Harry rephrased in a way Merlin couldn’t just pretend he didn’t understand. 

“Afraid I can’t say. I’m under strict orders from the Prince,” Merlin said. 

“Come on,” Malfoy said with annoyance. “Do you not trust us? We deserve to know.” 

Merlin glanced between them and Arthur, debating whether or not to tell them. “Fine, but you can’t say _anything_ to Arthur. Got it?” They nodded yes. “The Resurrection Stone is with the druids,” he whispered. 

“The druids? How could you possibly know that?” Harry asked. 

“A reliable source told me, that’s all I can say,” Merlin said. As much as Harry wanted to dig, he’d already gone against his conscience and told them about the druids, so he didn’t push. 

“We’re wizards too, it’s not like we’re going to turn you in,” Malfoy persisted. 

“Malfoy, stop,” Harry said. 

“But-” 

“Listen to Harry. And both of you try to ride faster, time isn’t on our side,” Merlin said before rejoining the other many yards ahead. 

“You reckon I could do a canter?” Harry wondered, feeling brave now that he wasn’t wobbling in his saddle. 

“Lord no, Potter. Unless you actually want to fall off stick to a trot,” Malfoy warned before he loped after Merlin. 

\----------------

The rest of the ride was a long one. They took the long path around a wide mountain range, and by the time they could see the forest’s edge Harry’s backside ached worse than he’d ever felt before. His only relief had been at noon when they’d stopped for a meager lunch of bread and apples. When the sun began to set, Harry was on the verge of tears he was so happy to dismount. At last, they reached the outskirts of the Forest for Balor. Night fell, and Arthur picked a place to set up camp among the sparse trees. 

“Merlin, set a fire,” he ordered. Merlin brought a pile of dry logs and sticks over, but he never got the chance to light it. 

Harry pointed his wand. “ _Incendio.”_ In a flash it was set ablaze. 

“Handy,” Arthur grumbled. Harry could not tell if he was impressed by the magic or upset by it. As Merlin got to work cooking a pot of stew, Hermione faced the issues of the sleeping bags.

“What do you plan on doing?” Ron asked her. 

“Dumbledore conjured hundreds of sleeping bags once, do you remember?” 

“You plan to do the same?” 

“Just hold on a moment, you’ll see,” she said. She held her wand steady and focused hard on the ground. She spoke no incantations as she waved her hand in an elegant manner. White light streamed from the tip of her wand, and in the middle of the woods, a bed was conjured out of thin air.

Never before had Harry been so glad she’d gotten hand cramps taking notes in Transfiguration. 

“Hermione that’s brilliant!” Ron said before giving her an excited kiss on the cheek. Arthur and Merlin gawked at it in awe. It wasn’t a lumpy, scratchy bed either. It was a queen with a real mattress, a heavy comforter, feather pillows, and a wooden headboard.

“We’re not all sharing it, are we?” Malfoy asked. 

“Don’t be stupid, no. Ron and I will sleep together on this one, and I’ll conjure two twins for you and Harry,” Hermione said. 

“Is there a chance you could summon two more?” Merlin inquired. He waited for Arthur to protest, but he remained silent. Not even he could reject a nice comfy bed. Hermione looked at him with apologetic eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I wish I could, but this magic is difficult. I don’t want to attempt more than I can do, and well, you already have something to sleep on,” Hermione explained. 

“There are four of you, aren’t there? Why can’t you all just make a bed?” Arthur asked. He sounded furious he wouldn’t be getting a bed. 

“It’s not that simple. Conjuration is the hardest form of Transfiguration, Hermione is probably the only one who can do it without causing an explosion,” Harry explained. They didn’t need a forest fire on their hands. 

“I could try. I got an O in the class,” Malfoy offered hesitantly. He must’ve known it wasn’t going to go over well. 

“And end up with a bed of spikes? No thank you,” Ron snapped. Malfoy’s face fell. Without another word he stormed off into the forest. There was a little voice in the back of Harry’s head telling him to go after him, but he didn’t hear it. He stayed there to help Hermione with her spellwork if she needed it.

A bit later, Merlin’s stew was finished and three beds were placed in a circle around the campfire. Looking into the pot, Harry was put off. It reminded him of a potion gone wrong, but he didn’t want to be rude and he _was_ hungry. He took a helping and was genuinely surprised by how flavorful it was. 

“This is good,” Ron said. 

“Thank you,” Merlin said. After a long pause he asked all three of them. “What’s your story? It's clear this isn’t your first journey, and you all have a look in your eye that says you’ve seen war, death. You’ve died. He pointed at Harry. “Who’s this Voldemort man you’ve mentioned?” Harry looked to his friends with uncertainty. Did they really want to get into that whole thing now? 

“It’s a long story,” Hermione said. 

“Let this be a long night,” said Merlin. 

Harry took a deep breath and began.

“Voldemort was the darkest wizard there ever was. He killed more people than you can count and loathed anyone who was less than a pureblood wizard. Eighteen years ago, when I was a baby, a man named Peter Pettigrew betrayed my parents and Voldemort murdered them. He tried to kill me too, but he failed and gave me this scar,” Harry brushed away his bangs, showing off the faded lightning bolt.

The three of them took turns telling different parts, throwing in random details someone forgot to add. Ron was especially dramatic about the size and scariness of Aragog. Some of it was left out, the bits that weren’t integral to Voldemort and the War. 

A half hour passed. Harry finished telling them about the battle at the Ministry of Magic. His heart was heavy and his throat had closed up, he needed to get up and take a breather. He used the pot of stew as an excuse. There was a helping left, but nobody seemed interested. Malfoy had been in the back of his mind since they’d started telling the story. It was weird he wasn’t back yet, and he must have been hungry. 

“Is there a stream or something nearby? I want to go clean out the pot,” he said in a strained voice. 

“Yes, a river flows just a walk that way,” Arthur said, pointing east. 

“Are you alright Harry?” Ron asked. He knew he was talking about the mention of Sirius’s death. 

“I’ll be fine. I won’t be gone long,” He answered before taking the pot and trodding off. Their voices were soon drowned out by the rustle of the trees, the crunching of leaves under his feet, and a gentle river somewhere in the distance. The rush of the water got louder and he knew he was approaching the bank. It wasn’t a wild river, the water was slow, peaceful, and safe enough to wade in; that’s what Malfoy was doing.

It would’ve been hard to miss him. His hair and skin were so white, it looked like he glowed in the moonlight. At the sight of him, Harry walked a little slower. As Harry got closer and got a better look, he saw that Malfoy’s dress shirt was damp, and that it clung to his slender back. Harry froze, unsure how to approach. He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily.

“What are you doing?” He forced himself to ask. Malfoy jumped and he whirled around, relaxing when he saw it was only Harry.

All the air was sucked from Harry’s lungs. How could he ignore the four undone buttons that revealed his sharp collarbones, or his messy wet hair, or the green and silver tie hanging on his neck like a snake. Harry had never seen him so...unraveled. He made himself believe his mouth was dry because he was so unused to Draco in such a state. 

“I haven’t bathed in days and may not get the chance again. The water is a bit chilly, but it’s worth it. What are you doing?” Malfoy said as he finished buttoning his shirt. 

“Oh, uh, I was just going for a walk,” Harry managed to say. 

“With a pot?” 

He’d forgotten he was holding a pot.

“There’s some leftover stew. If I couldn’t find you I was going to wash it out. Are you hungry?” He asked. 

“It doesn’t look very good,” Malfoy said, scrunching his nose. 

“It’s quite tasty actually. Might be cold though,” Harry said. Malfoy took it and hummed in approval after his first bite. 

“Merlin is a good cook,” Malfoy said. He went for another bite, and Harry was unsure what to do. Should he leave? Should he stay and clean the pot when Malfoy was finished? “Did Granger conjure the other beds?” Malfoy asked after the silence became too much. 

“Yeah, then Merlin asked to hear about Voldemort and the War,” Harry said. 

“That’s a lot to unpack in one night,” Malfoy huffed. 

“I tried to say that, but he wanted to hear it. It hasn’t been a coherent retelling, some of that stuff is so long ago I can hardly remember any of it,” Harry said.

It was true, even things like Quirell’s face were hazy in his memory. However some of them were clear as day. For example, right now he could remember every moment of his first time at Madam Malkin’s. 

“Just giving Arthur other reasons to dislike me,” Malfoy said before taking another bite and staining his nose with broth. Harry didn’t say a word. 

"To be fair, Harry said. "You did insult him the second you met him. He's a prince, a very famous one nonetheless. And you shouted at him just yesterday." He was getting bored just standing there and watching Malfoy eat, so he walked past him and went to stand on the bank of the river. Harry stilled the water with a spell and tried to skip a rock, but it sank. "I think you and Arthur are too similar to get along." 

"That's utter rubbish, we're nothing alike." 

"Let's see. You're both from rich families. You both you're better than everyone else. You both have massive egos, and you both have harsh fathers. Practically twins,” Harry said. 

“First of all,” Malfoy replied after Harry drowned his third stone. “You’re terrible at that, you’re wrist motion is all wrong.” He dropped the pot and stood next to Harry, but Malfoy only got one good bounce before sinking. This was a competition Harry was determined not to lose. “Second of all, I don't think I'm better than anyone else. Quite the opposite actually. Third, nobody has a worse father than I do. I have no choice but to love him, but he wasn’t exactly affectionate.”

“He can’t be as bad as the Dursleys, the people who raised me. They made me sleep in a cupboard until I was eleven,” Harry said. He got two skips that time, something Malfoy hadn’t achieved. After that, they took turns sharing stories about their bleak childhoods.

Harry told him all about Dudley, and the bars on his window, and the punishments he used to endure before he found out the truth about himself. Malfoy told him about the hateful rants Lucius would go on at dinner, the shunnings he would receive if he failed to meet high expectations, the fear of stepping out of line or showing any sort of sympathy for the other side.

Harry remembered Malfoy Manor. He remembered the dark, foreboding atmosphere, and such a lack of hominess that Harry could hardly imagine a child growing up there. That’s what Malfoy’s upbringing had been like.

They weren’t trying to have a competition of who had the worst childhood, or at least Harry didn’t think so. No, in a way, they were...bonding? He was surprised to find he could relate to many of the feelings Malfoy had felt as a kid more than he could ever relate to Ron or Hermione. Then again, they had ended up very different too. 

“Do you think your home life is an excuse for the things you’ve done?” Harry asked, trying not to sound hostile. Malfoy faltered mid-throw, allowing his rock to sploosh into the shallow water. 

Harry expected him to take longer to answer, but Malfoy looked him right in the eyes and answered with no hesitation.

“No.”

Harry wasn’t pushing for more, he was glad he even got a straight answer. He wasn’t expecting Malfoy of all people to make an emotional speech about change or something. Malfoy recollected the stone he’d dropped and took his turn; Harry’s jaw dropped as it bounced _seven_ times on the surface of the water. He’d only managed three. 

“You cheated, you bloody cheated!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Please Potter, jealousy looks awful on you. Just admit I’ve defeated you,” Malfoy said with the most annoying, smug smile. That wasn’t happening. 

“Where’s your wand? Show me your wand!” 

“You think I used magic? Don’t you think you would’ve seen it? I’m not showing you anything.” 

His reluctance made Harry more suspicious. _Damn those Slytherins and their reckless ambition_ , he thought. He didn’t know what came over him, but his thirst for revenge was too strong. In a swift movement, he splashed a bit of water in Malfoy’s direction. It wasn’t enough to soak him, but enough to get his point across. Malfoy had dried all the way too, which made what he’d done worse. 

“Pottah!” He shouted. At first his stormy blue eyes filled with anger. He splashed Harry back and got him right in the face. As he watched Harry gasp from the chilly water, he grinned from ear to ear in amusement. Harry had never seen him so happy before. 

“You’re going to pay for that!” Harry warned as he wiped his glasses as quick as he could. While he was pissed at Malfoy for splashing him in the face, he also felt a spark of playfulness. He took his emotions out on Malfoy and the river, not holding back this time. It was so childish, but all he could do was cackle at Malfoy’s soaked crotch. It looked like he’d peed himself. Their splashing war might’ve gone on forever if they hadn’t been interrupted. 

“Harry!” Ron appeared through the trees with worry all over his face. When he saw Harry he sighed with relief. When he saw Harry was with Malfoy, and that he was smiling with Malfoy, confusion was all over his face. 

“What’s the matter?” Harry replied, quickly stepping away from Malfoy. 

“Nothing, you’ve been gone for awhile and we wanted to make sure you hadn’t drowned. You didn’t, did ya? You’re all wet,” Ron said. 

“No I didn’t drown Ron,” Harry said with a laugh. 

“Glad to hear it. Well, I was told that if I found you I should bring you back. Arthur’s ‘bout to put out the fire so we can all get some sleep,” Ron said.

Harry walked alongside Ron the entire way back. He didn’t dare look to see how far away Malfoy was, Ron was already giving Harry weird looks. It wasn’t like he’d meant to lose track of time talking to Malfoy instead of returning to his friends. 

“Ah, you’re back,” Arthur said when they returned to the campfire. “I assume the pot is sparkling: you were gone for thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes? No wonder they had been worried. Yet, Harry had been so busy trying to best Malfoy at stone-skipping he’d completely forgotten to do what he’d meant to do. Another thing, he wasn’t even holding the pot. Had he forgotten it at the river bank?

“You can see your reflection in it,” Malfoy said, tossing it over to Arthur. He must’ve picked it up and cleaned it with magic on the way back.

Malfoy glanced at Harry with a look that said _don’t mention it._ Malfoy chose one of the twin beds Hermione had conjured, and fell into it. With nothing else to talk about, Arthur put out the fire by kicking it with dirt. 

“Looks like you don’t need magic for everything,” he mumbled to himself in a snide way. Harry ignored him and cozied up in his bed. It only took him minutes to fall asleep to the echo of the river he could still hear in his head. His sleep was dreamless, but it was the best rest he’d gotten in days. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Nothing could describe the fear Harry felt when he awoke to three archers aiming bows at his face. He bolted up and tried to scream, but no sound escaped his mouth, probably the effects of a spell. Behind the archers stood a cloaked figure, he seemed to be the leader. 

_Harry Potter_ The hooded man spoke in his head. _I know what you seek. You will wake Emrys and no other. Then you will come with us._

Emrys? By process of elimination Harry realized he meant Merlin. He looked around to see if anyone else was awake, but no, he was the only one seeing this. The last thing he wanted was an arrow in his skull, so he did what the hooded figure asked. He got out of bed and quietly shook Merlin awake. He looked up at Harry with exhausted eyes, but when he saw the archers, he became alert. He couldn’t talk either. Merlin laid staring at the hooded figure before he finally got up. 

_Follow us_

They went through the forest in complete silence. The only thing Harry knew for sure was that they were heading in the opposite direction of the river. A million panicked thoughts raced through Harry’s head, but every time he looked at Merlin the man was calm. Almost like he knew who these people were, like he trusted them. Could they be the druids they were looking for? After ten minutes of walking, they came to a wide cave, and Harry felt a great weight lifted off of him. 

“We apologize,” the hooded figure said. “But the others are not permitted to enter this cave.” Harry was still puzzled. 

“What the hell is happening?!” He exclaimed. 

“They’re druids, Harry,” Merlin informed him. 

“I figured that much, but where are we? Why have you brought us here?” Harry asked. He didn’t like being woken up and dragged to the middle of a forest. 

“This is Uamh Meòrachaidh. Otherwise known as the Cave of Reflection. It is a sacred place to the druids, and it holds the Stone which you seek.” The hooded man said. 

“How do you know we’re looking for the Resurrection Stone?” Harry inquired. 

“The same way I know that you’re the Chosen One, and that you and your friends are well before their time. I am the druid seer Suilean, I know the future.” He rolled down his sleeve and revealed a triskelion etched into his wrist. “Antonin Dolohov must never obtain the Deathly Hallows, and that is why you will be allowed into the cave: Emrys and the Chosen One.”

“Besides the Stone, what lies in this cave Suilean?” Merlin asked, looking into the dark abyss. 

“Nothing but your own conscience. There are two chambers. One will show your greatest regrets. The other will show your deepest desires. It will be clear to you when you have found what you are looking for. You may enter together or one at a time, the choice is yours,” Suilean said. Harry and Merlin didn’t even have to discuss their answer. 

“Together,” they said in unison. It was always safer that way. 

“So be it. We will await your return,” Suilean said. 

Harry was first to enter the cave, and it didn’t take long for the light of the surface to diminish. He lit his wand and turned around in the narrow passageway to see Merlin right behind him. Harry was nervous. He had acquired many, many regrets over time, and facing them was the last thing he wanted. He wasn’t even sure what his greatest regrets were, he had so many. 

“What do you think you’ll see?” Harry asked as they descended farther and farther into the earth. 

“I have a few ideas,” Merlin said. “Probably a dragon, the Lady Morgana, my childhood friend, and I’m sure there’s more.” 

“A dragon?” Harry asked. He remembered reading about a dragon attack on Camelot in Merlin’s second journal. Could that be the incident he was thinking of?

“Yes, only this dragon story does not involve escaping banks. It’s much sadder,” Merlin said.

Harry glanced over his shoulder; the look on Merlin’s face told Harry not to investigate further, but at the same time confirmed his suspicions. When Harry looked back ahead, he almost screamed he was so surprised. He was no longer in a cave, but on a grassy hillside. 

“What the…” he trailed off. His brain was frazzled by the bewilderment of it all. As he took in his surroundings, he slowly began to recognize where he was. It was nighttime and the full moon was out. The Whomping Willow was on one side, and a gorgeous view of Hogwarts was on the other. Ron (a much younger version) clung to Harry, whimpering into his ear in excruciating pain. 

“Remus Lupin?” Harry whispered. The last memory he had of Lupin was his dead body, it was jarring to see him full of life, even if Harry was only seeing the past. He knew this night. He still had nightmares about this night. More importantly, he had a handful of regrets from this night. Which one was he looking for? 

Everything happened how Harry remembered it. Hermione tried to approach Lupin, Lupin transformed, Sirius also tried to keep Lupin from turning, then Harry disarmed Pettigrew who shrank into a rat and escaped. In the blink of an eye, the scene reset. Lupin returned to his human state as well as Pettigrew. 

Harry knew exactly which regret the cave was honing on. He’d spent countless nights wondering what would’ve happened if Pettigrew had never gotten away that night. Even after saving Sirius with the time-turner, Peter had still fled. Who could’ve lived if Peter hadn’t run off to revive Voldemort? How much suffering could have been stopped if Harry had just done something? Then he realized, what if he was supposed to fix his regrets?

The scene began to play, and Harry didn’t hold back.

“ _Bombarda Maxima!”_ The ground Peter stood on exploded like a landmine. Harry felt little guilt as he was blown to bits. 

Trumpets. Harry heard faint trumpets in the distance. He whirled around to see where they were coming from, and was met with a leafy corridor that stretched as far as the eye could see. He looked down and saw that he was dressed in his Triwizard Tournament attire. 

“No.” Was all he could mutter. Out of every memory, every regret, why did it have to be this one? Cedric Diggory stood beside him, staring at the Triwizard Cup with fierce determination. If only Cedric knew grabbing that Cup would be the death of him. There was no way of telling him.

As Cedric bolted in the direction of the Cup, Harry could not find the strength needed to move. He was frozen to the spot, so nauseous and lightheaded that moving was impossible. 

“Cedric, no,” he whispered in a pathetic attempt to stop him. Cedric kept going.

Harry was so wrapped up in Cedric’s ultimate doom, that he did not recall the roots that would grab Cedric by the ankles and try to pull him under. The moment Cedric fell to the ground, Harry knew that the only way he could keep him from being killed, was to keep him from finishing the maze. Fleur had survived being pulled under, so why wouldn’t Cedric? Harry had the comfort of knowing this was all an illusion, too. Cedric would still be dead when he left the cave. 

He trudged towards Cedric as he fought tooth and nail against the roots. “Harry! Help me! Harry!” He cried. He clawed at the concrete so hard that his fingertips began to bleed. Seeing him struggle like this tore Harry apart with guilt, but he’d rather have this than have him dead. Harry had always felt like he could’ve done something to save Cedric, and this was it, as horrible as it was. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered as Cedric vanished under the hedge. He shot red sparks into the air, and continued on to take the Cup for himself. He laid his hands on the disguised portkey, and with that he was taken to the next regret. 

He found himself sitting in the Hog’s Head, surrounded by many of his friends. This could only be one moment. While it wasn’t as heavy as the other memories, it was something Harry felt guilty about, a memory he would think of and cringe.

“What about Dumbledore’s Army?” Illusion Ginny suggested.

In hindsight, naming their secret class “Dumbledore’s Army” hadn’t been the brightest idea. Sure it was symbolic and stuff, but it had only ruined Dumbledore’s image and forced him to flee the school.

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “It’s good, but I think it would incriminate Dumbledore if people were to find out about this. People might think he was raising a militia or something when in reality he had nothing to do with this.” 

Ginny seemed disappointed to have been shot down, but she nodded in understanding. “I guess you’re right. Let’s go with the Defence Association like Cho suggested.” That was all it took for that memory to end, but Harry did feel much better after that change had been made. He was brought to the next regret.

Like the maze, the first thing Harry noticed was the sound. But this time a brassy tune didn’t greet him. Loud sobs filled the air, and it took a millisecond for Harry to figure out where he was. It was the boys bathroom. Sixth year. Malfoy washed his face vigorously in the sink, like he was trying to scrub himself clean of his sins. 

This memory hit particularly hard. Unlike Pettigrew escaping,or Cedric’s murder, it was Harry’s direct actions which had made Malfoy bleed out on the bathroom floor. He had almost killed him. Now, he was getting the ghost of a second chance. 

Here was Malfoy: scared, hurting, lonely, backed into a corner by circumstances out of his control. Even three years ago Harry had seen that he was falling apart, it was evident in his quivering elbows and teary reflection. He didn’t have to see Malfoy like this a second time to realize he was screaming for help. Back then, Harry had made the choice to ignore the screams and be hostile with his words. This time he chose differently. 

He walked with apprehension. One wrong move and he could start the duel.

“Draco?” He said in a kind voice. He stood behind Malfoy unsure how to proceed. He did what felt most natural, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The last thing he expected was to be engulfed in a hug, but there he was being squeezed to death in Malfoy’s arms. Malfoy was so emotional, Harry was sure he couldn’t process who he was hugging. Someone was there offering support, that was enough for him. 

Harry only had a few seconds to feel the hug. It was warm, comforting, and Malfoy’s hair smelled like green apples. He couldn’t help it when his eyes drooped shut. Harry felt like he'd crawlen under a cozy blanket and was about to fall asleep.

His eyes flew open, and he was back in the pitch black cave. The only light was Merlin’s hand. A small part of him died with disappointment, he was hoping that some of those things had been real. 

“Harry, have you done it?” Merlin asked. 

“Yeah, I think I have,” Harry sighed. Should he feel accomplished? Because he felt like shit. 

“The next chamber is this way. Come on.” 

They went through a narrow hole in the wall on the far side of the chamber. Whatever was ahead couldn’t possibly be worse than that.

“Woh!” Merlin exclaimed the moment they entered the next area. “It reeks of iron in here. It also smells like…” he trailed off. Harry didn’t smell any metal.

The scent in the air was a mix of broom polish, the fireplace in Gryffindor Tower, along with something tart and sweet: something like green apples.

In the middle of the room, on a podium in front of a large mirror, there was a cauldron full of pink liquid.

Was it amortentia? It would make sense, they were in a chamber focused on desires and strong aromas filled the room. But that meant Harry couldn’t be smelling green apples. That was out of the question. However he had no other way to describe the smell. No, it wasn’t green apples. No, no, no.

Harry felt like he was burning up all of a sudden. Was it a coincidence that he had just smelled green apples on Draco and now he was smelling it in the amortentia? Maybe the hallucinations had after effects. The illusions hadn’t been real anyways, Draco didn’t actually smell like green apples. Did he? Just as Harry was beginning to have a full mental breakdown, Merlin distracted him with the mirror. 

“Hey, come look at this,” Merlin said. Harry had been so busy freaking out over the smell of green apples, he hadn’t noticed that this was no ordinary mirror. 

“Ah, of course the Mirror of Erised is here. I didn’t know it was this old,” Harry said. Merlin’s eyes were filled with the most longing Harry had ever seen in a person. He pressed his hand against the glass, trying to touch whatever he saw.

“You know what this is?” Merlin asked in a quiet voice, he was completely lost in the mirror.

“All too well. This is the Mirror of Erised. It’s enchanted so when you look into it you see your heart’s most powerful wishes. I believe we’re meant to retrieve the Stone from within the mirror,” Harry said. 

“How are we going to do that?” Merlin asked. 

“It’s not that hard. All you have to do is focus on your want for the Resurrection Stone and it will materialize. Go ahead, try,” Harry said. Merlin stared at the mirror so hard his forehead wrinkled, but nothing happened. 

“I can’t,” Merlin huffed in frustration. “I keep seeing the same thing, the smell makes it so much worse too. What is that potion anyways? I’ve never seen anything like it before.” 

“That’s amortentia, a potent love potion. It creates a fragrance of things you’re attracted to, the things you desire,” Harry explained. It was never known to be wrong, but there’s a first for everything.

“Kind of like the mirror then. It was clever of the druids to do this. Even if you want the Resurrection Stone, the amortentia distracts you with other yearnings. You look into the mirror, but your heart and mind are too focused on the alternative to change what you see,” Merlin said. 

“We should get rid of the potion then,” Harry said. It wasn’t hard. All he did was pull his wand and cast _Evanesco._ Without any modern charms to protect it, the liquid disappeared just like that. Merlin watched him, looking a little jealous. 

“I wish I could do spells like that. You’re all so young, yet you can cast such powerful spells in seconds,” Merlin said. 

“Trust me, you can do everything Ron, Hermione, Malfoy, and I can. You can probably do more. The only difference in our magic is how we use it. We have things like wands, and education, and advanced spells to aid us,” Harry tried to explain. 

“So you just have better magical technology?” 

“I mean, yeah, I guess. Witches and wizards have had centuries to perfect spells and potions and all that sort. Even then, magic is always evolving. But you’re _Merlin. Y_ ou don’t need any of that to be powerful.” As he said that, he realized he had probably said too much. How would the universe implode if Merlin found too much about himself? 

“What do you mean by that?” Merlin questioned. 

“Why don’t you try looking into the Mirror of Erised again. With the amortentia gone it’ll be easier,” Harry said. He grabbed him by the shoulders and whirled him around like people did in cartoons. “What do you see?” 

Merlin tilted his head and squinted as he peered into the mirror. “I-I don’t understand. It’s supposed to be a stone, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s tiny, black, kind of like a diamond,” Harry said. 

“Are you sure it’s not a horn?” Merlin turned around not holding the Resurrection Stone, but a gold adorned bullhorn. 

“Positive. Are you sure you were thinking of the Stone?” 

“Yeah! This has to be it or that mirror is broken,” Merlin said. 

“I bet Suilean will know what this is. We should go to the surface and see what he has to say," said Harry. Merlin walked back towards the other chamber, leaving Harry alone with the mirror.

He couldn’t help but stare at it with a strange sense of nostalgia. So much had changed since he’d first sat in front of this mirror as a skinny eleven year old in his PJs. It was a piece of his history, and he never knew what had become of it. Curiosity overcame him. He wanted to know what he would see as this older, different Harry. 

He approached and his reflection became clear, but when he saw what was in the background, or rather who, it was evident that the Mirror of Erised was just as wrong as the amortentia. Maybe this was a fluke, so Harry backed away and reapproached hoping for a different outcome, but he was still met with pantone eyes and pale fingers interlaced with his own. 

“Yep,” he muttered to himself as he followed after Merlin. “Definitely broken.”

He didn’t think much else of it as they went back. Not even on Jupiter would he ever desire to be with Malfoy, to hold his hand, or anything like that. He was _just_ beginning to get along with the other boy. It had to be faulty magic, or Harry would have some serious issues to work out. 

Suilean and his archers waited outside, and when he saw the horn in Merlin’s hand, he smiled. “So you found it. Well done Emrys.” 

_Uh oh._ Was all Harry could think. 

“Are you sure this is it?” Merlin asked. “It’s supposed to be a stone. The Mirror of Erised isn’t broken?” 

“No,” Suilean said. “The mirror is made from incredibly strong magic, it will never be nonfunctional. As for the horn, there is more to it than meets the eyes. It is the Horn of Cathbhadh, an ancient tool used by high priestesses to pierce the veil of death and communicate with spirits. After the Purge it was hidden where it could not be used, as it only brings mayhem.” 

“So the Stone is like, in the horn then?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, but you need not disassemble it because you will not use the Stone. Once you have dealt with Antonin Dolohov, you must take this to a woman named Valdis in an outlying village, she is the one destined to have the Horn of Cathbhadh. If you do not, time will not proceed as it should and the future will be altered in ways unimaginable,” Suilean warned.

“It will be done,” Merlin promised. He looked down at the horn and said, “Thank you for your help. We’ll do everything in our power to keep Dolohov from it.” He bowed to the druids and looked at Harry in hopes of leaving, but Harry was stuck. He had to know that the Mirror of Erised was wrong. 

“I’m sorry, I have a hard time believing this. The mirror is broken, it has to be! What I saw in it was simply not true. I would never want what I saw,” Harry declared. 

“The fact that you fight against your own heart is enough to tell you what you saw was true. Denial won’t help you run from what you long for, no matter how much you want to resist it,” said the Seer.

The way he spoke, it made Harry suspect Suilean knew what Harry had seen in the reflection. Or maybe it was advice he always gave people who couldn’t accept what they saw. Either way, Harry couldn’t stay there anymore. A full blown battle had just begun inside of him, and all he could do was march on and comb it over on their way back to camp. 

It was ludacris, the idea of him liking Draco bloody Malfoy. After everything they’d done to each other? Draco had been a death eater for Merlin’s sake, although not entirely of his own volition, Harry knew that much now. But it was impossible. They’d disliked one another from the day they’d met.

Sure, whenever Draco spoke to him or entered the same room as him, his cheeks burned, his heart pounded, and his attention was only drawn away by Ron or something. But that was because they had been enemies. However, he didn’t feel that way towards Goyle, or Crabbe, or Voldemort. 

Harry did have to admit, Draco was one of the most attractive people at Hogwarts, but that didn’t mean he liked him, it meant that Harry had eyes. Even if Harry kinda liked the way his hair shimmered on a sunny day, even if he’d been breathless seeing him fresh out of the river, even if he had spent all of sixth year obsessed with him, even if he could understand Draco in a way most didn’t, and even if he enjoyed quidditch the most when he was playing against Draco (who was his only real challenge), that didn’t mean he had any sort of feelings towards him: but the Mirror of Erised was never wrong. 

“What do you think?” Merlin asked. Harry had been so busy with his conflicted thoughts and anxiety ridden stomach, he hadn’t noticed Merlin was talking to him. 

“Huh?” 

“What should we tell the others when we get back?” Merlin asked. 

“I dunno, just show them the horn I guess,” Harry replied, sounding a bit out of it. Merlin looked at him with curiosity.

“You seem upset. Is it what you saw in the mirror?” He asked with concern. 

Harry just shrugged, he couldn’t let anyone even suspect what he had seen. “Some things are better left unseen I suppose.” 

“There’s something I can agree with. Ever seen an afanc? Quite gross they are, all muddy and stuff,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Harry just shrugged. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. All he could think about was Malfoy and what all of this would mean for Harry. Should he accept that the disdain he’d felt for Malfoy all these years had been heavily repressed feelings, or should he try to fight because all of this was so wrong? 

When they arrived at camp to find everyone awake, Harry couldn’t stop himself from staring at Malfoy like there was nothing else around them. He was leaning against a tree, snacking on a pear for breakfast. He looked extra clean from bathing last night, especially his hair; it looked so soft and shiny in the morning sun. And Harry had never appreciated how good that white shirt made him look…

Harry scolded himself. It was the mirror getting in his head, nothing more. If he could just ignore this it would go away in time. Malfoy caught him staring. He shot Harry a sneer and walked away from his tree over to his horse. Why did Harry get butterflies? 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted as he stormed up. “Care to explain yourself? Why would you just up and leave, we didn’t know where you were!” 

“We couldn’t,” Harry said. “The druids woke us and we weren’t able to speak. They brought us to a cave, but good news, we have the Resurrection Stone.” 

Merlin held out the horn, earning a perplexed expression. “That’s a horn, Merlin,” Arthur said.

“Not just any horn, this horn allows you to speak with the dead. The Stone is part of it,” Merlin explained. 

“The druids told you this?” Arthur said. “And you believed them?” 

“Absolutely,” Merlin replied. “They went to great lengths to protect it, you have to trust me Arthur this _is_ the Resurrection Stone.” 

Arthur sighed, but he didn’t argue any further. “I trust you. It’s a bit upsetting that the rest of us came all this way just to sleep through the exciting part. Why’d they take just you and Harry?” 

“Excellent question. I haven’t got a clue,” Merlin lied. Arthur bought it. 

“Alright then, I’ll let everyone eat their breakfast and then we can pack up,” Arthur said. He and Merlin walked away and began to discuss what to do with the horn in low voices. 

“Hey Harry,” Hermione said as she and Ron approached. 

“Where were you mate? I woke up and freaked out,” Ron said. 

“With the druids. Merlin and I found the Resurrection Stone, but it’s in the shape of a horn right now. You’ll never believe it, but the Mirror of Erised was there,” Harry informed them. 

“Really? I didn’t know it was so old,” Ron said. 

“That’s what I thought. Anyways, I’m sorry you guys didn’t get to go, I didn’t have a choice,” Harry apologized. 

“It’s alright Harry. Just, we wanted to talk to you. Ron told me why you didn’t come back to the campfire last night,” she said, speaking in a whisper so Malfoy wouldn’t hear. 

“Yeah, so?” Harry replied. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal, not big enough for an intervention at least. 

“Malfoy isn’t a good person, you know that right?” Hermione asked like he was a child being reprimanded. 

“Of course I do,” Harry snapped. He felt super defensive all of a sudden. 

“Good. We were just worried you might have forgotten everything he's done,” Ron added on. 

“Gosh! I know I know get off my back alright? I’m not friends with him, I’d never be friends with him. He was a death eater!” Harry replied. He felt awful saying it, but what was he supposed to tell to them? That he might have unrequited feelings for the person he was supposed to hate? He couldn’t lose their respect, not over something like this.

He walked away and vanished his bed from existence, fuming to himself. He was angry with them, he was mad at Malfoy, and most of all he was furious with himself. There was no doubt in his mind he had feelings for the Slytherin now. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be getting so worked up over this? He’d always gotten way too emotional about everything Malfoy did, which made sense now that he’d looked into that damn mirror. 

“What’s the matter with you? You look like you want to kill someone,” Malfoy remarked as he watched Harry move with anger. Harry had to tell himself Malfoy didn’t actually care. 

“I’m fine,” Harry grumbled. He walked away the moment his bed was gone. Harry couldn’t bear to be near him at the moment. To avoid the others, he waited by Dusty until everyone else was ready to go. He wanted to calm down and think to himself about what all of this meant. They got up on their horses, and thanks to Malfoy's lesson, Harry didn’t fall behind. 


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Chapter Ten! A quick thank you to everyone who's read this far, and to everyone who's left a kudos or a comment, you all are literal angels! I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Hermione loved sunny days. In particular, she loved the way Ron’s freckles darkened in the sun. Today was no exception. She was glad to have him there to provide some sanity during the insanity of this entire situation. At the moment, he was the only one she really felt she could have a normal conversation with. Harry had been fine too, but ever since he got back from the cave that morning he’d been acting weird. He was short with her and very quiet. She didn’t know what had happened, and she had tried to ask but he brushed her off. Clearly, he wasn’t going to tell her, so she let him sulk in the back to contemplate whatever was bothering him so much. 

On these long rides through the forest, when she wasn’t talking to her boyfriend, she was observing Merlin and Arthur. Merlin had been a role model for her growing up, and her mother read her tales of Arthur and the Round Table ever since she could walk. However, as she observed them, she discovered something you would never know reading fairy tales. 

The way they looked at each other when the other couldn’t see, the way their eyes crinkled when they smiled at each other, the way they could calm each other down with just a touch, their constant flirty banter; Hermione had seen many of her peers in love with each other and that was exactly how these two were acting. She’d noticed it almost as soon as they’d met, but neither Ron nor Harry seemed aware, and she didn’t care what Malfoy thought. It was probably because they were boys that they didn’t see the obvious tension.

She felt bad for them, they were living in the most unfortunate time period for them to get together. That wouldn’t stop her from trying though. She was about to approach Ron and ask him if he wanted to help her play matchmaker, but she never got the chance.

They were riding through a narrow canyon path when all of a sudden, warriors jumped down and tackled all of them off of their horses. Hermione scrambled for her wand, but it was no use, the man on top of her was too strong. Before she could cry for help, he bashed her in the head with the hilt of his sword, and everything went black. 

\------------

It had all happened so fast. When Hermione woke up with dizzy vision and a crazy headache, she knew it hadn’t been some dream. As her sight cleared and she became oriented, she realized it was sunset, and she was leaning against a metal bar. She gasped in fear, it dawned upon her that she was in a cage on the back of a carriage, like a prisoner being transported (although they weren’t moving). 

Immediately, she reached for her wand, but she felt nothing and her heart sank. She only felt this anxious when she didn’t have her wand on her. Hermione patted herself down over, and over, hoping that maybe she’d missed it, but she hadn’t. 

“Oh no,” She whispered, feeling like she might cry. 

“Hermione, you’re awake, good.” 

She turned around, overcome with relief when she saw that she wasn’t alone in the cage. She had Merlin and unfortunately, Malfoy. 

“Where are we? Where’s Ron?” She asked, hoping one of them had stayed conscious longer than her. 

“Don’t worry Granger, your precious Weasley managed to escape capture by some miracle,” Malfoy said in a patronizing way that peeved Hermione off. 

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that! I’m not afraid to hit you again you know!” Hermione exclaimed, feeling pride when he flinched. 

“Shut your mouths scum!” Outside of the cage, a large man sat at a table: a table with their wands. Hermione looked around even more, this wasn’t just a single cart, they were part of an entire caravan. 

“What is this place?” She asked. 

“I think we’ve been brought to a bandit hideout,” Merlin said quietly so he wouldn’t alert the guard. “But this cage, it’s resisting my magic. I don’t know how they have such a thing.” 

“That’s strange. Are the others here too?” Hermione asked. 

“No, they only managed to capture us. Which is a bit embarrassing, Arthur’s going to bug me about it for ages,” Merlin said with a special gleam in his eye. 

“Aw, that’s cute,” Hermione said before she could stop herself. Merlin’s jaw fell open. “We should come up with a plan. Malfoy do you have any ideas?” Hermione said. She would have done anything to get the attention off of her big mouth.

“Sure, I’ve got one. We could try wandless to bring our wands through the bars and use them to unlock the door _,”_ He suggested. 

“You heard Merlin, magic doesn’t work against this cage,” Hermione said. 

“His magic doesn’t work against this cage. We might as well give it a shot, unless you’ve got any bright ideas,” he said. Hermione tried to brainstorm, but nothing better came up. Maybe an idea would come with time. Malfoy took her silence as her answer, and continued. “Obviously it won’t work with this ugly brute watching us. We’ll have to wait until he’s distracted or asleep to do anything.” 

“And who knows,” Merlin said. “While we’re waiting Arthur might find us.” 

“I don’t know what he’ll be able to do, there are about twenty men at this camp and all he has is a sword,” Malfoy said. 

“He has Ron and Harry with him, besides, I’m sure he’s very capable,” she said, watching Merlin to see how he reacted: he blushed. So it seemed that Merlin was great at hiding magic, but not so much his feelings. Even Malfoy seemed to notice his face turn beat red. 

He saw their knowing faces and blushed even worse. “Let’s just wait and see, alright?” Merlin said. He went to the corner of the small cage and sank to the floor. Hermione felt bad, she hadn’t meant to make him so flustered. 

Conversation was null. Hermione paced around her area, getting more and more restless by the second. The sun was almost gone and the guard wasn’t sleepy, despite what she’d seen in movies. Malfoy didn’t make things easier either. He kept glancing over at Hermione with the strangest look in his eye. He bit his nails like he was trying to decide whether to speak to her or not. 

“Granger,” he finally said. “Can we talk for a moment?” 

Hermione wasn’t thrilled. She wasn’t even sure if they’d ever spoken alone, and after everything he’d done, she never planned to. But these were unprecedented times, and as much as she hated to admit it, it was better than boring herself to death.

“What Malfoy?” She asked in a short tone. 

He hesitated, and for a moment Hermione wasn’t sure he was going to say anything. She rolled her eyes and prepared to walk away, then he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 

Was she hearing him right? She couldn’t be. “Excuse me?” 

He gazed at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. “I know this is weird. I’ve been trying to be better ever since the War ended, and I feel bad about a lot of things. I had a lot of screwed up beliefs, and I’m sorry for calling you ‘mudblood’, and bullying you, and for doing nothing when the death eaters had you. I was always particularly bad to you, and I wanted to say something earlier in the year but I never found a good time so I figured I would do it now. So, I’m sorry.” 

Hermione didn’t know what to say or how to react. Most of it was rambling, but that didn’t take away the sentiment of what Malfoy was trying to do. The bashfulness he wore convinced her that he might be sincere, and she was touched. If he was trying to change, she commended him, and maybe in the future she could find forgiveness.

However, this was Malfoy. She was ashamed, but there was a voice in her head telling her not to trust him, he might have an ulterior motive. She chose not to listen to it. If Malfoy was going out of his way to do something Hermione never ever thought he would do, she was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to say,” Hermione responded. She still wasn’t fond of him, but perhaps things would start to get better. Malfoy opened his mouth as if to say something else, but Merlin cut him off. 

“I have a question,” he said, seemingly unaware they had been speaking. 

“Sure, what is it?” Hermione asked. 

“Ever since we met, you guys have been acting like you recognize me, and all this time I’ve been wondering...how? I always figured I would be forgotten,” Merlin said. 

“Oh no Merlin,” Hermione said. “You’re remembered well into the future.” 

“But me, I’m just a servant, nobody knows I have magic, how could people remember me?” Merlin inquired. Hermione was silent. Time was complex, she didn’t know how much she could say without screwing up the future. It would be dangerous to let him know too much about himself. She skirted around the fact he would live well beyond this era and complete many amazing tasks only to disappear in the 19th century, and told him something a bit more vague. 

“When magic is made legal, you’re going to publish a collection of journals detailing your triumphs during your time with Arthur. You’ll do some other stuff beyond Arthur, but it won’t be wise to get into details. Merlin, you’ll be revered as the best wizard to ever live,” Hermione said.

When Binns had assigned that Famous Wizards Essay, and Harry had gotten Merlin, she’d been quite jealous. She’d gotten stuck with Ethelred the Ever-Ready. She had been furious watching Harry disregard the assignment, only reading ten out of the twelve journals. After he was done with them, she’d gone and read every single one for fun. She knew everything there was to know about this man. Did she feel like a stalker now that he wasn’t just a name on a page? Maybe. 

“So all of my actions, they matter?” Merlin asked. 

“Of course they do. They matter now, even if no one knows the truth,” Hermione said. 

“Tell that to Arthur,” Merlin said with an airy laugh. 

“Oh, I think he knows more than anyone.” 

He laughed even harder. “You haven’t known him very long, have you? He calls me an idiot every chance he gets.” 

“Please,” Malfoy cut in. “The mocking is all part of it. Only an idiot would think he thinks you’re an idiot.” 

“In reality, he seems _very_ fond of you,” Hermione said. She just couldn’t help it. If they were going to be stuck in there, she might as well have fun with it. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Merlin quipped. He seemed more panicked than offended. 

“Sorry if I stepped out of line, I thought you and Arthur had something going on, is all,” Hermione said. If Merlin had been drinking something, he would have spit it out. 

“What made you think that?!” Merlin exclaimed. They had really hit a nerve. “Honestly! That’s ridiculous! Arthur-Arthur is a clotpole! I would never! We could never! He’s my master! Besides, he’s destined to be with Gwen, it’s not like he’d ever have feelings for _me!_ This is all one big misunderstanding and I’m afraid you were hit too hard on the head!” 

“Your denial of what’s obvious is annoying. It’s not like we’re going to judge you, hell even I’m g-” Malfoy stopped himself and went wide eyed, like he was about to reveal something he wanted no one to know. He whirled around so they couldn’t watch him blush, but he turned magenta so fast it was impossible to miss. Hermione ignored his dramatic arse and continued to focus on Merlin’s issues. 

Merlin sighed deeply. His shoulders relaxed, and Hermione could see in his eyes he'd realized there was no use denying it. “Am I really that obvious?” 

“Just a little. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Merlin. The way you look at each other is beautiful,” she said after dropping down to his level. 

“I didn’t realize we were in a cheesy romance novel,” Malfoy muttered just loud enough for her to hear. Hermione rolled her eyes, he might’ve gotten rid of the darker parts of himself, but he was still as rude as ever. 

“You seem to think he loves me back,” Merlin said, skeptical.

“Mhm. Like Malfoy said, he picks fights with you all the time, in reality he’s just looking to have your attention. He stares at you when you aren’t looking, and he trusts you more than anyone.” Hermione wondered if she’d been paying too much to them, but her words made Merlin’s eyes light up, so she didn’t sweat it. Now, all she wanted was to see Ron. 

“Uh oh,” Malfoy said. The guard at the table came strutting over. Through the bars, Hermione noticed he smelled of eggs. She would never take universal hygiene for granted again. Merlin shot to his feet.

“Hey! I thought I told you scum to shut it! Can’t have ya’ conspiring,” the guard said. 

“You’re awfully confident for a man so hideous your mother probably named you Quasimodo,” Malfoy snapped. The guard scowled at him and got so close to the bars Hermione could see his multiple dead teeth. 

“Why don’t you watch your mouth, pretty boy. You’ll go _real_ quick,” he spat in a way that sent shivers down Hermione’s spine.

“What the hell does that mean?!” Malfoy exclaimed. Hermione was disgusted, she could only imagine what he felt. Merlin shoved himself in front of the two in a protective stance. 

“You have no idea who’s coming for you,” Merlin said in a low, threatening voice. The guard was so distracted cackling in their faces he didn’t notice a horse hurtling towards him at full speed. One moment he had a head, the next moment, he wasn’t so lucky.

On the back of the horse was a man with dark blonde hair and a flowing red cape. He jumped off his horse and ran over, grabbing the keys off the guard’s spurting body. It was wrong, Hermione realized, that she was so used to Nearly Headless Nick that the sight of a decapitated corpse wasn’t as gruesome as it should have been. 

“Boy am I glad to see you, Sir Leon!” Merlin cheered as their savior opened the door from the outside. 

“Quick, exit the carriage and get to safety!” Sir Leon ordered. Hermione hopped to the ground and noticed that Leon wasn’t alone. The other knights were in the midst of intense combat with the other nineteen bandits.

Hermione couldn’t run and hide while she could do something to help. She and Malfoy dashed over and grabbed their wands from the table. They sprinted into the heart of the fight, knowing they could demolish these bandits with ease. 

“ _Stupefy!”_ Hermione shouted, aiming at the closest man to her. He fell to the ground looking like he’d been smacked with a frying pan. 

“ _Expulso!”_ Malfoy said, a burst of light exploded from his wand and knocked back an enemy. They seperated and made their way through the camp, taking out bandits with any spell that came to mind. It got to the point where the bandits left the knights alone to fight the real threat. While conjuring those beds had been fun, nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline she got from battle. She felt invincible as she fired spell after spell, all of her senses were heightened and she felt like she could do anything.

In the meantime, Merlin and Sir Leon stood by the carriage-cage observing the multicolored-light show, unsure what they could do to help.

It was over as soon as it started. The bandits were so helpless against their magic it was more like target practice than anything. Hermione and Malfoy finished off the last guy by blasting him with _Confringo_. As she cooled down, it dawned upon her what exactly she and Malfoy had done. Would the Knights of Camelot detain them, or kill them right on the spot? With her head hung, she retreated back to Leon and Merlin prepared for any punishment waiting for her. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this in my life,” Leon said. “These bandits have been a problem for months, and you’ve just killed them all.” 

“They aren’t dead,” Hermione said. “Just impaired.” 

“Then I’ll have my men tie them up. They will be brought to Camelot in their own cages. But I cannot simply ignore the fact you are sorcerers, I’ll have to arrest you too,” Leon said, sounding remorseful. 

“For what reason? We helped and this is how you repay us?” Malfoy asked. 

“I wish it weren’t up to me, but I cannot forsake my king, I’m sorry.” He moved forward to apprehend them, but Merlin was quick to step in. 

“Sir Leon, these are no ordinary sorcerers, OK? They come from distant shores with no understanding of the laws of Camelot. They aren’t used to magic being illegal,” Merlin argued. 

“Are you telling me you’re with them?” Leon questioned, ignoring the point he was trying to make. 

“Yes, and they’re also with Arthur, who’s declared they shall not be arrested.” 

“Does the King know about Arthur’s declaration?” Merlin shook his head no, which upset Sir Leon further. “I can’t believe this Merlin! This is treason on the highest account! I’m sorry my friend, but I may have to arrest you too!” 

“No!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“Silence, witch!” Leon exclaimed. 

“They took out an entire bandit camp, don’t you think there can be one acception? It’s not like they’re evil,” Merlin said. 

“What they did was heroic, but I’m a knight, my loyalty to the crown comes before anything. Uther would be furious if I let them go,” Leon said. 

“Who cares what Uther thinks!” Malfoy snapped, causing Leon to gasp dramatically. Hermione’s stomach dropped; this was it, they were doomed.

********

Harry still hated horseback riding. Even after Draco’s lesson, he much preferred the steadiness of a broom or the broad back of a hippogriff. But he had no choice, he had to gallop through the forest if Draco, Hermione, and Merlin were to be saved on time. Arthur led the charge. He said he had an idea of who had taken them, and that his knights had been circling in on their camp for months, but they didn’t have the exact location. 

Harry rarely saw Ron so worried. Only when they’d missed the train second year, and only when they’d met Aragog had he looked so frightened.

“What if they’ve killed her Harry? What if they’ve bloody killed her?” He had said after the initial attack had finished and the others had disappeared in the chaos. Harry couldn’t worry about that. 

Well, he _was_ worried, Hermione was his best friend, but she could handle herself just fine. She was clever, powerful, and charismatic enough to keep the bandits off her back. Merlin too. Draco was clever and powerful, but charismatic he was not. One sentence out of his mouth could get him killed, the audacious idiot. 

Even during all of this, the cursed Mirror of Erised was eating at his thoughts. Logic told him Draco should not be the person he was most worried for, but his heart was heavy with distress for him anyways. Times were strange, was the only thing Harry told himself. He was gradually coming to terms with what he’d discovered, and figured that as long as he could rid himself of whatever he felt for Draco, things would be fine. He’d gotten over Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley, certainly he could get over _Malfoy._

Arthur brought them to a screeching halt. To avoid running into him, Harry pulled the reigns so hard he almost flew off. “Do you hear that?” Arthur whispered. The faint sound of other voices echoed through the woods, and they only got louder. 

“They’re heading this way,” Ron said. “Reckon they’re other bandits?” 

“Could be. We wait here for them, take them by surprise.” Arthur led them to a nearby clump of trees and made them hide behind the trunks. They dismounted. Arthur peaked around the tree until the other people were so close they could make out words. 

“This is the most insulting thing I have ever experienced! Arrested by muggles for no reason, the nerve!” 

Harry’s stomach did a leap, he knew that voice anywhere, especially when it was complaining. “That’s Malfoy!” Both he and Ron exclaimed in unison. 

“Be quiet!” Another voice said, this one was unfamiliar to Harry. Arthur seemed to recognize it though. 

“Sir Leon?” Arthur whispered. They followed Arthur away from their cover and in the direction of the voices. Sure enough, only a short walk away they found a party of red-clad men pulling cages of bandits. Trailing behind them were Merlin, Hermione, and Draco. Merlin was free, but the others had their hands tied behind their backs. 

“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed as they approached. 

“What’s going on here Sir Leon?” Arthur asked a blonde man as they approached. 

“I might ask the same thing of you, my lord. I rescued these sorcerers from bandits and they claim they’re in your custody. Care to explain why you’re hiding criminals from your father?” Leon asked. 

“It’s more complicated than you think. I wouldn’t if there weren’t a reason and you know that. Now I demand you release them at once,” Arthur said in an authoritative voice. Sir Leon was aghast. 

“But your highness-” 

“I don’t want to repeat myself. Untie them immediately,” Arthur ordered. Leon hesitated to get off his horse, but after a dangerous glare from Arthur, he dismounted and approached Draco and Hermione with a knife. The moment Hermione was free, she ran over and threw herself into Ron's arms. 

"Sir Osric, Sir Oldoff, Sir Edric, you will stay with me on our route. Everyone else, bring the bandits to Camelot for prosecution. When you are finished, regroup with us, assuming we will be on schedule," Leon ordered. They nodded to him, and the large group veered off on their own in the direction of the city. 

"Glad that’s settled. You should move along, we plan on returning to Camelot as fast as possible," Arthur advised.

Hermione finished hugging Ron, and she pulled Harry in for a quick squeeze. He was grateful she was safe, but he couldn’t help it as he locked eyes with Draco, who watched them from afar. He had no one celebrating his safe return, the envy was clear in his eyes. In another universe, Harry would have hugged him amorously, perhaps he would have kissed him on the cheek. Harry caught himself imagining these things and gave himself a mental slap on the wrist. He could not be thinking about these things if he wanted to get over this. He pulled away from Hermione, refusing to look at Draco for another second. 

“What’s going on Arthur? Why are you on the side of sorcerers?” Leon asked. 

“It’s nothing I can explain now, all I can do is hope for your faith in me and your absolute silence on the matter,” Arthur said. 

“Dammit Arthur,” Leon grumbled. “Fine, only because I trust you. However, when King Uther finds out, you won’t mention my name.” 

“Of course not. I hope I can explain this to you someday,” Arthur replied. 

“Yeah, me too.” Leon mounted his horse. He shook his head in disapproval, and without another word galloped away with his fellow knights. 

When he was out of sight, Arthur patted Merlin on the shoulder. “Glad to see you haven’t died, finding a new servant is always a chore. Now, I would love to stand around all day but we’ve got to get back to Camelot before more bandits show up.”

Merlin seemed let down, but he continued on like nothing was bothering him. Arthur led them where they had stashed the six horses, and they continued the journey back to the castle. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

They didn’t rest on the way back. At last, Weasley, Granger, and Potter could manage a gallop. As ungraceful as they looked (particularly Potter), the speed was worth the sacrifice. They arrived in the city just moments after the sun had set. Draco would have been happy to quit traveling, Potter had been giving him the strangest looks all day, ones that sent shivers down his spine. But they shared a room, so he wouldn’t get a break from his intense eyes anytime soon. 

They arrived in the courtyard to take care of the horses, but they were in for quite a shock. Draco couldn’t believe his eyes when they pulled up to find Sir Leon limping across the plaza on a bloody foot. He was the only person besides them in the courtyard at the moment, and when he saw them out of the corner of his eye, he looked straight at them with furious eyes. He found Potter and shot him a hateful scowl. They all looked at each other, it was clear they were all thinking the same thing: this was not Sir Leon, this was Dolohov.

“Nobody act suspicious, we’ll undress our horses and speak in Gaius’s quarters,” Arthur muttered to the group. They kept their horses moving, ignoring “Leon” and going to the stables. When the horses were settled and they went back out into the courtyard, “Leon” had vanished. They still bit their tongues until they reached the safety of the Physician’s Quarters, he could very well be hiding in the shadows. 

“Well at least we’ve found Dolohov,” Weasley said the moment they entered the room. Gaius was gone, so it was just them. 

“Yes, but how the hell has he made himself look like Sir Leon?” Arthur asked. 

“It’s most likely that he’s brewed a Polyjuice Potion, a potion that can make you look like someone else, and used that to disguise himself as someone in the castle. How he got close enough to Leon to do so, I don’t know,” said Granger. Draco concurred, there was no other explanation. 

“He was in the castle before, and he could’ve snuck in and found the knight barracks while we were away looking for the druids, who knows. It doesn't matter anymore. We have to focus on catching him now,” Potter said. 

“We can’t be seen kidnapping a knight of Camelot, there might be a better way to do this too. If we can get the King to see Dolohov transform into himself, he’ll be put in the dungeons and he won’t be a problem anymore,” Granger suggested. 

“That just might work! You see, there’s going to be a feast tomorrow night. If I can get Dolohov to come, we might be able to reveal him in front of every noble in Camelot, not just my father," Arthur said, hope in his voice and eyes. 

"Yes, but Uther must know Sir Leon is gone. Don't you think Dolohov will do his best to avoid him?" Merlin wondered. 

"You're right," Arthur said. He pondered what they could do about this, and his face lit up. "But if my father knew Leon wasn't himself, there would be no need for trickery." 

"Are you suggesting we tell the King what's goin' on? Are you mad?" Weasley asked. 

"I won't tell him everything, but if he knows the bit about an evil sorcerer he's bound to help us set a trap at the feast," Arthur said. He looked at Merlin, apparently only his approval mattered to the Prince. 

"Where do you think he is right now?" Merlin asked. 

"Eating supper. Come on Merlin, no time to lose!" 

Draco didn't know why he was so excited. Was it because they weren't hiding something from the King for once? He could find no other reason. Merlin and Arthur left the room, and for the first time in days, Draco, Potter, Granger, and Weasley were left unsupervised with nothing to do. This could be their chance to have a break and do something fun, or something outside of their assigned sleeping quarters at least. Potter seemed to be thinking the same thing. 

"Think they'll be gone for long?" Potter asked. 

"Who knows," Weasley replied. 

"Well, we don't have to do anything until tomorrow. Do you guys want to escape to the tavern or something? I'd rather not be cooped up in here for hours again," Potter questioned. Draco wondered if he was included in the invitation. 

"Sorry Harry," said Granger. "I'm simply exhausted, I want to go to Gwen's and go to bed." 

"I'm with Hermione, we've been traveling all day, I need to sleep mate. Who knows, we might have time later," Weasley agreed. 

Harry shook his head at them, but let it go. "See you tomorrow then." They waved goodbye and disappeared out the door. Draco would have preferred to go out on his own, but if this was his only chance, he would rather do it with Potter than not do it at all. They'd spent plenty of time alone down by the river, surely they could do it again. 

"I'm sick of this place too, Potter. Let's go to the tavern," Draco said, getting a shocked and hesitant look in return. "Don't get me wrong, it's not because I want to be anywhere near you. I figure as long as we're in Camelot, we might as well explore it." 

"Yeah, no, I agree," stammered Potter. 

"Good. Now where do you suppose Gaius keeps his money? I assume knuts won't work here," Draco said, beginning to search for containers that might hold gold. 

" _Accio Money?”_ Potter said with uncertainty. When it actually worked, and a sack of something jingly came flying from a shelf through the air, Draco was surprised. “Wasn’t expecting that to work. Come on, we should get out of here before Gaius gets back.” 

Right as he said it, the old geezer waltzed into the room. “I hope you don’t plan on leaving. I can’t have you running around Camelot unaccounted for,” he said. Potter shoved the bag of coins into his sweatshirt pocket, Draco smirked, he was glad to see Potter still had his streak for troublemaking. 

“Of course not. We were just about to go to bed,” Draco said. He and Potter retreated to their room, Potter paused and said, “Oh, and if you see Leon anywhere around the castle, don’t trust him one bit.” Potter shut the door, and Draco began to brainstorm ways to get past Gaius. He was not spending the rest of the evening in this goddamn room again, it was like a prison at this point. 

Draco noticed Potter observing his every movement, causing heat to rush to his face. He had to get into the dark night where Potter couldn’t see him well enough to look at him like that.

“I say we use a Sleep Hex. It’s easy, and he won’t suspect us if we do it at the right moment,” Draco said, turning his back to Potter. 

“Or we could wait until he’s actually sleeping, you know, avoid hexing someone,” Potter snapped. 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Potter shook his head in disapproval, walked over to the door, and cracked it open to peek at Gaius. Draco peered over his shoulder and saw that the physician had taken a seat at a table, he was chopping up a pile of dried leaves. He yawned widely. 

“He’s tired, now’s the perfect time!” Draco whispered, all too aware of how close they were. 

“What happened to being a better person?” He quipped. 

Draco scoffed. “Get off your high horse. You petrified Longbottom your first year. Besides, we’ll only put him to sleep long enough to get out of the room, we aren’t killing him.” 

“That was nothing like this! We _had_ to get out of the dormitory,” Potter replied. Draco was tired of arguing, and he was tired of leaning over Potter. Before Potter could stop him, he pulled out his wand and got it over with. 

“ _Somnium,”_ he said, aiming at Gaius. Gaius collapsed onto the table, the knife he was holding fell to the floor, and snores echoed throughout the room. 

“Draco!” 

“Oh well, there’s nothing else we can do now.” 

“Out of anyone on the planet...what is wrong with you Harry?” Potter mumbled to himself. Draco ignored his ramblings. He grabbed Potter and they hurried out of the room, not wanting to stick around long enough for Gaius to wake up. It had been so long since he’d felt the excitement of doing something naughty. They reached the courtyard, and at long last they were free. The entire city was open to them. 

Potter pulled his arm away. Draco knew he wanted to be angry, but there was a wide grin on his face and a bright gleam in his eyes. Draco stared, he didn’t know why he was at a loss for words. “Let’s see if we can find this tavern then,” Potter said, and they ventured into the city. 

Somehow, in the gigantic maze that was the city of Camelot, they found The Rising Sun. It was a cozy little pub near the castle, and it was filled with patrons that night. Draco and Potter entered, causing everyone to freeze and gawk at them. Potter said they should have worn more appropriate clothes. Draco only hoped news of their whereabouts didn’t get to Arthur somehow. While Potter ordered two drinks, Draco chose a table in one of the darker areas of the tavern. 

One thing they didn’t take into account was that the only alcohol they’d had in their life was butterbeer, which had miniscule amounts and tasted like butterscotch. They were in for a shock when they took their first sips. 

“Merlin’s beard, this tastes awful!” Potter exclaimed, scrunching his nose and sticking out his tongue. Draco chuckled at his disgusted expression. He was much better at hiding his dislike of the flavor, it wasn’t all bad. 

“But that burn is nice, isn’t it?” said Draco, going for another gentle sip. 

“Uck, I guess so,” he replied. As it turned out, they were both lightweights (especially Harry). By the end of his first drink, Draco was feeling fuzzy and uncoordinated. 

“Tell you what,” he said rather loudly. “I’ll get the next drinks. Give me money.” 

“Wait, I’ve got a better idea,” Harry said, grabbing his wrist to keep him from standing. His hand was so, so soft and warm to touch. “We can’t spend all of Gaius’s money! You’ve already knocked him out.” 

“I put ‘im to sleep!” Draco snapped. Harry let go of Draco’s wrist, and Draco couldn’t keep from frowning. He rubbed the skin where Harry had touched him. He’d left little lightning bolts. 

Harry got out his wand, too tipsy to remember he had to hide his magic. “ _Subplementum!”_ Both of their mugs were filled to the brim with foamy ale again. It was discreet enough, no one came over threatening to take them to the King. Draco tried to drink, but Harry grabbed him to stop him. 

“We should toast something. We didn’t with the first one.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I dunno, it’s fun!”

Draco didn’t argue. He would let Harry have his fun. Harry peered into his eyes, brainstorming something to toast to. From the day they’d met, Draco had been jealous of his shamrock green eyes. It was a crime he got to have such nice eyes. They were charming even when they were glassy from drinking. 

“A toast,” he said while raising his tankard. “To us! Let’s put our grievances behind us, Draco. Voldemort is gone, the world is at peace, everything is different. We should be different too!” That was absolutely something Draco could get behind. 

“To new starts,” Draco said. They clanked their drinks together and took healthy gulps. Two-drink Harry was loud, and giggly, and very honest. 

“What do ya’ think of the city?” Harry asked him after they bottomed out their second drinks a while later. Despite the clamor of the other patrons, all Draco could focus on was Harry. The beer was getting to his head, making him think things he would never think sober. For example, Harry’s tan skin looked extra golden in the pub lighting, and the shadows caused his face to look even more attractive than usual. There wasn’t a usual, was there? Draco couldn’t take his eyes off of him, and it was freaking him out. He tried to blame it on beer goggles or something.

“It’s very dirty,” Draco said. He’d gotten mud on his shoes early when they were wandering the streets, which was a shame, they had cost two hundred galleons. Harry laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, but that was his reaction to most of the things Draco had said these past few minutes. Draco didn’t mind, he enjoyed Harry’s laughter. It was full, and bright, and honest. It was laughter that made you melt on the inside. Over the years, Draco had noticed only Harry had this kind of laughter. It had bothered him for so long. Now, he was sad that it had become rarer to hear him laugh like this. Why he was doing it now was a mystery, even with alcohol, what Draco had said wasn’t funny. 

“Ya know what?” Harry slurred, leaning on the table and pointing at Draco. “I don’t care what Ron and Hermiome say, you’re not that bad anymore.” 

Draco couldn’t fight a smile from creeping onto his face. Never in a million years, would he have expected Harry to say such a thing. Beer was quite the substance. Harry didn’t find his amusement amusing. 

“This isn’t funny, Draco! I’m _trying_ to be nice!” He exclaimed with furrowed eyebrows. Draco only smiled wider. “I’m bloody taking it back.” Harry declared. 

“Nope, too late,” Draco said to get under his skin. It worked. 

“Quit smiling! You know what, Mirror was wrong, I don’t like you, you’re the worst, really,” he said, but he was unconvincing. 

“Mirror? What mirror?” Draco asked. 

“Of Erised! Oh, wait, you weren’t there, not really. I said too much!” Harry said, absolute panic filled his eyes. It was official, this boy was plastered. 

“I think it’s time to stop the drinks,” Draco said. He was much quieter about his drunkenness, but he was just as intoxicated. He couldn’t sit up straight and everything in the bar but Harry was blurry. 

“Nonsense, I feel great!” Harry said. 

“If anything is nonsense, that is. We’re drunk off our asses, one more beer and we won’t be able to find our way to the castle,” said Draco. He didn’t want to go back, but it would be safer. 

“Coome on. We’ve only just got here!” 

Draco wasn’t positive anymore, but he was sure they’d been there for an hour. His memory wasn’t the best at the moment. He was going to put his foot down, but he looked into Harry’s pleading eyes and forgot every bit of common sense he held onto. 

“Okay. Buuut, I challenge you to a contest. Whoever finishes their drink first, wins,” he said. For some reason, he wiggled his eyebrows. He was ashamed of his drunk persona. 

“Wins what?” Harry said with a slight smile. 

“How about a dare? If I win, you have to do whatever I dare you to do. Vice versa if you win,” Draco said. Hopefully this wouldn’t come back to bite him. 

"We’re a bit old for this...but I'm down," Harry said. "Prepare to lose." 


	12. Chapter Twelve

Draco filled their drinks with his wand, all the while thinking how bad of an idea this was. Anything to win something against Harry Potter. “Ready?” He asked after froth spilled from the rim. Harry nodded yes. They each gripped their mugs and stared at each other with fierce competitiveness. 

“Three! Two! One! Go!” They counted down in unison and began to chug away. Draco had watched Crabbe and Goyle engage in many pumpkin juice drinking contests for years. He thought that such an art would be easy to master, but boy oh boy he was wrong. He was only halfway through the mug before he felt the strong urge to vomit. He downed the last bit of the cool, amber liquid, and he slammed the tankard down in triumph. 

“Take that Pottah!” He exclaimed, but he quickly shut his mouth so he wouldn’t burp in Harry’s face. It only took a second for Draco to realize his celebration had been premature. Harry leaned back in his chair with the most irritating, smug smirk on his irritating, handsome face. Draco was so drunk, he didn’t question how Harry had tricked him into thinking he was handsome. 

“What? No! No!” Draco exclaimed. 

“Let this be a lesson, Draco,” Harry said, speaking with a worse drawl than before. “NEver make a challenge you’re not sure you can win.” 

“You’re cocky now, but you’ll pass out on the way back to the castle, I guarantee it.” 

“Maybe, but you’re not lookin’ too hot there yourself Mr Malfoy,” Harry said, jutting his finger at Draco. Draco didn’t care if he was falling out of his chair, he had bigger concerns on his mind. 

“Let’s hear it,” he said. “How are you planning to humiliate me?” 

“You mean the dare?” Harry asked. 

“Yes I mean the dare, dummy.” 

“Hmmm,” Harry said, annoyingly tantalizing. “I’m gonna have to think about it.” 

“Are you telling me I’m gonna have to wait? You can’t think of _anything?”_

“What can I say, my best ideas come to me in the moment,” Harry said. 

“I’ve never heard such rubbish in my life!” Draco had to find a way out of this, he refused to let Harry have the power in this situation. “I demand a rematch!” Did Draco know he’d gotten himself into this situation? Yes. Was he going to hold himself responsible and take the consequences? Probably not. 

“No! Absolutely not! I am not chugging another beer! Accept defeat you appley bastard!” Harry exclaimed. Had Draco misheard him, or had Harry just called him an “appley bastard”? Either way, it was confirmation to Draco that they needed to stop drinking. Draco would have to remember this in the future as a reminder never to drink again. 

“I think it would be good if we went back to the castle while we can still see straight,” Draco said. Maybe on the way back, in his drunken stupor, Harry would forget about the stupid challenge.

For some reason, Harry giggled. “Would be smart, wouldn’t it? I’ll have...half of another drink, and we can go.” Before Draco could tell him it wasn’t wise, he had his wand out and the beer overflowed in the cup. 

“Ey, them’s doin’ magic!” A man at the table beside them, an unbathed peasant, shouted for the entire tavern to hear. All chatter and laughter seized. Every head turned to Harry and Draco. Their eyes were terrified. It was an overreaction, if Draco had anything to say about it, but here in Camelot Harry had just sentenced them to death. 

“Dammit Harry!” Draco hissed, but Harry was quick on his feet. He grabbed Draco’s hand and in a split second they were outside of the tavern in the dark street. They heard an uproar from within the pub, and they knew they had to bolt.

Draco didn’t think to let go of Harry as they sprinted towards the castle. Draco was seeing double and his legs felt like jelly, so he was glad to have the extra support. Harry was even worse. He zigzagged all over the street without any regard for Draco’s own balance. Still, the thought of releasing Harry’s hand didn’t even cross his mind. It felt so normal, so natural, he kinda didn’t realize he was doing it. Draco’s solution to Harry’s bludger-like behavior was to wrap his arm around his waist and continue running down the streets like that. It didn’t really help, they still stumbled about like they were wearing roller skates. 

Draco’s chest burned, his legs ached, and he was nauseous from apparating while drunk; but never in his life had he felt such joyous exhilaration. When they reached the bottom of the castle steps, they were laughing their heads off. The seriousness of what they’d done had already worn off in their minds. 

Harry rested a hand on Draco’s shoulder and said, “Why were we running? No one was chasing us.” Another round of laughter started. Anything would have made them laugh at that point. 

“They might show up though. We should get inside before they come at us with torches and pitchforks,” Draco said. Out of nowhere, Harry tilted his head back and stared straight at the sky. "What are you doing?" Draco asked. 

"Let's go there," Harry said, pointing to the very top of the castle. 

"Are you sure we shouldn’t go back to Gaius?" Draco questioned. He wanted to go to the roof, but someone had to be the voice of reason. 

"Are you joking? We're on the stairs of King Arthur's castle, there's so much to explore and you want to go back to Gaius? This might be the only chance we get to see the rest of the castle on our own," Harry said. He had a fair point. Draco was curious to know what this huge fortress had in store, but was it really wise for them to be wandering about when they’d been caught doing magic? Wise wasn’t in Draco’s compendium at the moment. 

“Alright. But how do we find our way?” He asked. They stopped touching each other and proceeded through the large double doors. In the entrance of the castle, a dark haired woman in a flowing, blue dress walked along. She looked important, so unfortunately, Harry decided to talk to her. 

“Miss!” He said, staggering forwards. She scaled him up with judgemental eyes, if he were in her shoes, Draco would have done the same. He tried to grab Harry and keep him from bothering her, but he was on a mission now. 

“Can I help you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes, indeed,” slurred Harry. “My name is Harry Potter, that’s Draco Malofoy.” 

“Don’t tell her our names!” Draco whispered, but he was ignored. They were doomed if anyone from the pub came asking about two drunk fools dressed in strange clothing. 

“We’re new to Camelot, and we need directions on how to get to the roof,” Harry said. This woman thought they were mad, it was evident in her eyes. 

“Um, the closest staircase is just down that hall,” she said, pointing down a long corridor. 

“Thank you my kind lady!” Harry said. The dork bowed to her then headed in that direction. Draco couldn’t help but smile at him, he was endearingly strange when drunk. He followed after Harry, but he paused next to the woman and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“I love your dress,” he said.

“Thank you. Stay safe on the roof,” she said with concern. 

“Come on Draco!” Harry called, and that was his cue to go. They found the staircase she was talking about. It was tall, and windy, and it reminded Draco of the staircase to the Divination tower. It didn’t go all the way to the top, so they had to find the next stairwell.

There was nothing about the castle that reminded him of Hogwarts besides that, even though they were both castles. The halls were narrow, even cramped, unlike the wide passageways of Hogwarts. Passing armed guards made the atmosphere of the castle a whole lot different too. It felt less whimsical, and more real than Hogwarts. Maybe hundreds of years ago, Hogwarts would have looked similar. Nevertheless, he was glad he was getting the chance to see this place, it had some neat architecture. 

After wandering aimlessly, they found the stairs that would lead them to the roof. Draco didn’t even notice the chilly air, the view was so breathtaking. Candlelit windows created a canary-yellow glow across the entire city, the stars and moon were the only other light. The only sound was the wind and the occasional hoot of an owl. It was alarming to see a mob forming outside of the tavern, but Draco had a feeling he and Harry wouldn’t be caught anytime soon. 

“It’s beautiful,” Harry said, resting his elbows on the stone. Draco’s beer goggles were back. His dark hair danced in the gentle breeze and his eyes sparkled with wonder. He looked amazing.

"Yeah," Draco said. "I’m glad you made me come up here, I would’ve regretted missing out.”

He leaned his back against the ledge and crossed his arms, looking at the city with a turned head. They stood in silence, taking in the view and enjoying the first real peace they’d had in days. Draco found himself looking between the town and Harry. He was glad that any animosity he’d ever felt for Harry was just a distant memory. In his less-sober state of mind, he was able to admit to himself that he enjoyed Harry’s company. He was fun, interesting, and the only person to treat Draco with any dignity all year. 

“Harry,” he said. “Do know why I was so mean to you for so long?” 

“Yeah. It’s because I didn’t shake your bloody hand on the train. Talk about a pointless grudge,” Harry said, causing Draco to roll his eyes. 

“That’s only a small part of it, get over yourself. No, I just never got it. All my life I’d grown up hearing about you, you were more like a myth than a person to most children in the wizarding world. I knew you were in my year, and I was actually excited to meet you.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, don’t interrupt. Anyways, when we met you were just so...normal. For me all of the hype around you died. I mean, you didn’t even know about wolfsbane, and even muggles know wolfsbane is a thing. People only liked you because your name was famous, there was no other reason you were popular. Hell you couldn’t even walk into a bookstore without people asking for a picture. Like I said, I didn’t get it, and I was a jealous little brat who couldn’t keep his anger to himself.” He then said something he never, ever meant to say out loud. “I mean, you’re a good person, people should like you because of that.” 

Harry's face lit up like a lumos charm. “What did you just say?” 

“Nothing. I’m drunk, nothing I say means anything. Wipe that smirk off your face!” Draco exclaimed. Would it be overdramatic to throw himself off the roof at this moment? 

“You think I’m a good person!” Harry said, creeping towards Draco with an amused grin. He blocked the cool wind from reaching Draco, engulfing him in a cocoon of their shared body heat. Draco was glad it was dark, otherwise Harry would have seen him blush as red as a sunburned ginger. 

“Shut up, no I don’t!” Draco replied. He felt like a toddler saying so, but he had to defend his honor somehow. 

“It’s OK,” Harry said. “I won’t tell anyone.” He was close. So close Draco could see small scratches on his glasses, and smell his sweater (which had the pleasant aroma of a fireplace). Draco couldn’t help but look between his eyes and his lips. What was wrong with him? Why was he struggling to breathe normal? 

“Were there any other reasons?” 

“What-what do you mean?” 

Draco knew what he meant. But he forced himself to play stupid like he had for seven years. He knew that he used to plan his days so he could bump into Harry in the hallways. He knew that he used to do anything he could (like climb a tree) to get Harry’s attention. He knew that his least favorite Weasley was Ginny. But he’d crammed all that into the deepest parts of himself, made fun of Harry as a coping mechanism for unwanted feelings. But now that they’d made up and gotten drunk, and Draco wasn’t entirely in control of his thoughts or feelings, he was being confronted with all of this stuff he’d managed to ignore since first year. He still wouldn’t admit it to himself: he couldn’t. 

“Was there anything else that made you hate me?” Harry asked. He seemed like he wanted to add something, but he bit his bottom lip to keep himself quiet. Why was Harry digging like this? What was his goal, to expose Draco and laugh in his face? 

“No,” Draco lied. Harry tilted his head, Draco could tell in his eyes that he wasn’t buying it. 

“Draco, I want you to know,” he paused, and Draco held his breath in anticipation. Harry could say anything. “I didn’t say it earlier, but I’m glad you were safe; you know, from those bandits.” 

Merlin's beard, he was so drunk, but he was genuine. Draco didn’t know what to say, he felt like his insides were melting in the best way possible. His face softened, and he looked at his feet because he couldn’t conceal how touched he was. 

“The only person who’s ever said that to me is my mother,” he whispered. 

“Oh,” Harry said. “I-I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. I appreciate it,” Draco said, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice. He couldn’t let Harry know he was gushing behind his hard exterior.

Harry got quiet, and his eyes wandered past Draco and to the city behind him. Now that they were admitting things and being all touchy-feely, it was the right moment for Draco to let other stuff go.

“I’ve never officially thanked you for saving me in the Room of Requirement, have I?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

“Well then, thank you for saving me in the Room of Requirement. That’s all I’m saying on the matter so I recommend you stop grinning and don’t mention this."

“You’re welcome, Draco. I won't tell anyone you're a sap on the inside.” 

"Wow, I've never heard anything so sincere," he replied with sarcasm.

Harry laughed quietly, and then he burst out cackling. Draco didn't know he'd been _that_ funny. Harry laughed right in his face, it was so loud Draco had to cover his ears. Could he tell what Draco was really thinking? Was he laughing at his absurd feelings?

“What is it?” asked Draco. 

“I just saw a cat fall off a roof!” He wheezed. “It was a short building, so the cat is fine, but it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”

He was laughing so hard, he staggered backwards. Draco didn’t want him to get farther away, but he couldn’t find the courage to keep him there. 

“Hey, you know what this reminds me,” Harry said. Draco could almost see the lightbulb over his head. “I still have that dare, don’t I?” 

“A cat falling off a roof reminded you? What is going on in your head?” 

“I dunno,” Harry said. He shrugged sheepishly, his smile shrank, and his laughter turned into anxious chuckles. His apprehension frightened Draco. He didn’t look devious like Draco thought he would, he looked scared. 

“So, what do you want me to do?” Draco asked, he really regretted losing that contest. Somehow, Harry turned even shyer. It seemed that he knew what he wanted, he was just afraid to ask it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a Gryffindor? Tell me, I have to do whatever you say. I won’t be mad,” He said. It was insane, what he thought Harry might want, but it was insane that Draco wasn’t turned off by it. 

“What if…” Harry trailed off, giggling in a failed attempt to make it seem like a joke. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we, I dunno, _kissed._ ” 

Draco’s throat tightened and his heart began to beat so fast he was afraid for his health. His palms began to sweat, his mouth went dry, and his stomach churned with excitement, not disgust. 

“Is that what you really want?” 

Harry thought about it for a moment, but his gaze fell to Draco’s lips, and he spoke with a bit more confidence.

“Is that OK? If I’ve overstepped a boundary-” 

“You haven’t. Quit talking and just do it.” 

As Harry came close once again, Draco asked himself _how_ Harry hadn't overstepped a boundary. If anyone else had asked this, he would’ve punched them in the nose and told them to screw off; he should've reacted worse to Harry Potter. But no, he wasn't uncomfortable in the slightest. He wanted this. 

People always talked about butterflies in their stomach before a kiss, but there were full-on Cornish pixies in his, and his heart was a bongo drum in his chest. Words couldn't describe the anticipation, but Draco kept a pokerface to hide it. He rested his elbows on the stone to seem even more nonchalant.

Harry bit his lip and paused, causing all composure Draco had to vanish. His eyes turned wide and doey, his breath was uneven, and he was paralyzed in place.

What happened when Harry went through with it? Would everything go to shit? Would they go back to loathing each other? Or the exact opposite? Whatever happened, Draco began to wonder if it was worth it. They weren't being themselves, he would hate to create a storm of drama from a stupid, drunken, mistake. Then again, this didn't feel like a mistake. 

Draco closed his eyes and waited breathlessly for Harry to plant one. He swore he could feel the very tip of his nose on his cheek, but after a grueling five seconds, nothing happened. Draco opened his eyes; Harry hadn't gone through with it. He rested his hands against the ledge behind Draco’s waist and drooped his head beside Draco’s neck.

"Bad idea." Was all he whispered. 

"Probably," Draco whispered back. 

"Gaius. We should uh, get back to Gaius," Harry said. 

"Agreed, it's too cold up here." 

Harry stepped away. He took one short glimpse at Draco and his lips, eyes filled with regret. He hung his head and jammed his hands into his pockets. They left the roof feet away from each other and walked in complete silence to Gaius’s. Draco spent most of the time staring at the back of Harry’s windswept hair, contemplating what had happened. 

He couldn’t believe he would've done it if Harry hadn't pulled away, and he couldn't believe he felt disappointed. He wanted so bad to chalk it up to the alcohol, but he knew that wasn’t it. He finally accepted that he might have feelings for Harry, but did Harry feel the same? There was a good chance he had only been trying to humiliate Draco. He didn’t want to find out. Even if Harry did like him back, it could never work. Harry’s friends wouldn’t be accepting, and Draco couldn’t imagine his parent's being thrilled. He’d just have to wait for it to go away over time. 

They arrived at Gaius’s, and Draco was glad to see him fast asleep in his bed. They were gone so long that he must have woken up from the spell and fallen back asleep on his own. Draco was glad. He would rather get a scolding in the morning than add to an already emotionally taxing night. He and Harry snuck past Gaius to the bedroom. The moment he shut the door, the tension between them was so palpable Draco felt awkward every time he moved. He sat down on his bed facing the window, he couldn’t look Harry in the eye without blushing. 

“Hey,” Harry said. “It got weird, I know, but I had fun tonight.” 

“I had fun too,” Draco replied. He was sincere, despite how conflicted he felt at the moment. He liked hanging out with Harry, he had a more enjoyable time with him than he'd ever had with his Slytherin friends. But he'd had equally worse encounters with Harry in the past. Perhaps they'd put everything behind them, but the memories were still there. Could they even be healthy for each other in the long run? 

Draco didn’t want to think about his feelings anymore. He laid on his side, telling Harry he wasn't interested in anymore conversation. He drifted away, and moments later; he dreamt of a happy future with a certain scar-headed boy, one where his past was long forgotten. 

  
  



	13. Chapter Thirteen

Merlin had never been so glad to spend the day away from Arthur. That morning a guard had come in during breakfast with news. They'd hoped it was about Dolohov, but it hadn’t been. According to the guard, multiple citizens had seen two young sorcerers in strange clothing at the tavern. One with black hair, the other with blond hair, and both were sparkling clean. The guard told Arthur to look out for anyone that might match those descriptions, and left Merlin to deal with the consequences. To say Arthur was angry was an understatement. He didn’t say anything for the rest of breakfast, or the rest of their early morning routine. Merlin had tried to ask what they were going to do about Harry and Draco, but Arthur refused to talk to him. 

They had arrived at Gaius’s to find that the old man had already given them a looong lecture, and they learned what the boys had done to get out.

Merlin was very disappointed in them, but they themselves looked like absolute messes. Both Harry and Draco looked sickly, their hair was messy, and they claimed that they only remembered fragments of the previous night. Still, Arthur gave them a piece of his mind and guilt was rampant in the two boys’ eyes. Merlin knew that if he hung around, he would be getting many earfuls, so he volunteered to follow Dolohov around all day (it would have been his job anyway) and left. 

So there he was, late in the afternoon, following the fake Sir Leon down the least busy corridor in the castle. He didn’t know if Dolohov suspected he was being followed. Merlin was doing his best to stay in the shadows, and if Dolohov glanced over his shoulder Merlin made sure to hide the best he could. Somehow, he remained incognito for the entire day.

Dolohov had a boring day. He spent his time dodging guards and people who might know Leon was gone, but he also seemed to be looking for something. Merlin assumed it was the Invisibility Cloak, but if it was invisible he wouldn’t be able to find it, so it was a lost cause. 

Dolohov combed the castle top to bottom. The only areas he didn’t visit were the vaults, leading Merlin to believe that’s where the Cloak might be. It didn’t matter, catching Dolohov was the important thing. 

Throughout the day, about every hour, Merlin caught him drinking from a silver flask. It must have been that Polyjuice Potion the wizards were talking about. He was about to abandon his stalking to go research a cure with Gaius when a better option presented itself. 

Dolohov led Merlin to a desolate corner of the castle where the only rooms were closets, and one guest room. This guest room was the worst one in the castle, it was only used if all the other guest rooms were full. Dolohov must have figured out it was empty, because he slipped inside with confidence and slammed the door. Quietly, Merlin pulled the door open. He peeked inside and saw him standing over the fireplace, stirring a potion in a pot meant to be used for stew. He dipped his flask into the potion, cleaned it off with a handkerchief, and took a small sip. Dolohov shuddered violently like it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever tasted. Based on its green, slimy appearance, Merlin didn’t doubt it. 

Dolohov made his way towards the door and Merlin quickly hid in a nearby closet. He waited for a few minutes among the royal servant outfits collecting dust, the ones with the awful hats, and left when he knew Dolohov was long gone. Getting rid of the potion was way more useful than following him around, especially with their feast plan. 

After looking both ways to make sure Dolohov wasn’t coming back, Merlin slipped into the room and went over to the pot of Polyjuice Potion. Merlin grimaced, he couldn’t imagine drinking it if there was a sword to his throat. He opened the only window in the room, which faced the forest outside of Camelot. He shrugged; he wasn’t dumping it into the courtyard or training grounds so it would be fine. He took the potion and went to pour it out the window, but he paused. He remembered that spell Harry had used to get rid of the love potion. Merlin didn’t have a wand, but he still wanted to give it a try. 

“ _Evanesco.”_ It didn’t work. All that happened was a small splatter of potion. Merlin was determined to make it work, so he tried again. 

“ _Evanesco!”_ Success. It was like the Polyjuice Potion had never existed. 

“Yes!” He exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. The burst of confidence he got made him feel invincible. He left with a big smile on his face to tell Arthur and Gaius that the potion was gone.

******* 

This whole day had been terrible. Arthur couldn’t believe those damn wizards had snuck out and gotten drunk last night, and he couldn’t believe what they’d done to Gaius to do it. They claimed they had no recollection of the night, but Arthur found that hard to believe, they had proven they were capable of trickery and lying. 

Not only that, but he’d been on edge for hours. He hadn’t been able to call on Merlin for anything all day, albeit he was doing important work, but it still bothered Arthur to not have eyes on him while he was following a blood thirsty sorcerer. He was only a manservant, there was no telling what Dolohov could have done if he had caught him. Luckily, he hadn’t caught him, and there Merlin was, serving the knights and nobles of Camelot their drinks with a bright grin on his face. 

“I told Sir Leon to attend like you asked me too,” Uther said. “I think you’re right. He wasn’t himself. He was shifty, nervous, like he had something to hide. What did you say the sorcerer’s name was again?” 

“Antonin Dolohov. Are you certain he’ll come?” 

“Absolutely. I’ve had guards on him for an hour and threatened to arrest him if he doesn’t come, he should be here any minute. Arthur, I trust your judgement, but don’t you think all of this is too elaborate? Why can’t I just arrest him like normal instead of ruining the feast?” Uther asked. 

“He isn’t an ordinary sorcerer, father. He’s very powerful, sending a couple of guards to detain him wouldn’t work. We have to get him while his guard is down and we need to take the thing that makes him so powerful,” Arthur said. 

“And you think your serving boy is the right person for the job? I mean look at him, he’s a fool,” Uther said. They watched Merlin trip over his own two feet, almost spilling an entire jug of wine on a lady of the court. Arthur couldn’t help but smile, he was fond of Merlin’s clumsiness, his ears always turned pink when he stumbled. 

“There’s more to him than meets the eye. He can do it,” Arthur said. He tried not to sound like a swooning girl, but a little adoration slipped through the cracks. Uther hummed with skepticism, but Arthur ignored him to stare at Merlin like he was the only other person in the room. Arthur was so oblivious to the world around him, he didn’t see “Sir Leon” enter the room. 

“There he is,” Uther whispered. “Leon’s” face was anxious, and he was all sweaty. Merlin had told Arthur the Polyjuice Potion was gone, so Dolohov must have known the clock was racing against him if he’d gone to get more potion before the feast. Merlin jumped into action. He approached Dolohov with a smile and said something before guiding him to an empty seat a couple spots away from Arthur. Merlin scanned him head to toe to find where he hid his wand. His eyes lit up, and he abandoned him to go tell Arthur what he found. 

Merlin shuffled behind the chairs to the head of the table. He reached Uther and Arthur, then leaned down and whispered into Arthur’s ear. “He’s hiding his wand in his boot. I don’t know how I can get it without him knowing.” 

Arthur raised his eyebrow, and Merlin grew defensive. “No! I’m not doing it! Do you know how embarrassing it is to be the center of attention like that?” 

“You didn’t say that when you poisoned yourself with that goblet, or tried to convince the court you were a sorcerer, or-” 

“I get the point! Do you really want me to do it?” Merlin asked with a sigh. 

“To be safe, yes. We can't have him having apparating or whatever when his potion wears off,” Arthur said.

Merlin frowned. “You just want to see me embarrass myself.” 

“That’s only a tiny part of it.” 

“Cruel, you’re absolutely cruel,” Merlin said as he walked away, but he was smiling again. He took a plate of grapes from the table and walked in “Leon’s” direction. Right near his chair, Merlin dropped the platter and the clang echoed throughout the entire dining hall. Everything went quiet and everyone stared at him. 

“Sorry! Sorry! Pay no attention to me!” Merlin exclaimed as he fell to the ground near Dolohov’s feet. Everyone shrugged and the clamor returned to full volume. Merlin finished picking up the grapes, and once he was done he returned to Arthur, who was laughing for the first time that day. Merlin returned to Arthur and rolled his eyes at him. He dropped the wand into Arthur’s lap and muttered, “How immature can one man get?” 

“You think he knows?” Arthur asked, disregarding his jab. 

“Look at him, he’s scarfing down his food, I doubt it,” Merlin said, and he walked away to the table of wine pitchers. It was true, Dolohov probably hadn’t eaten a full meal in days. He was deep in the pork, roast potatoes, and vegetables. He showed no sign of being nervous about his wand. 

“What an odd item,” Uther commented. Dolohov’s wand was unlike the other wizards’. It’s handle was an expertly carved skull. The others were nothing but plain wooden sticks. He would never pretend to understand why sorcerers preferred to use such strange objects when swords worked just fine. 

“It’s powerful though,” Arthur said. 

“It’s a stick, son,” Uther replied. Arthur didn’t respond. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dolohov take out his flask. Merlin was just coming back with a wine pitcher, so Arthur grabbed his wrist. 

“Merlin, take his flask away.” 

“How?” 

“Do I have to think of everything? Just do it!” 

Merlin hurried over to Dolohov, and moments before he took a sip, Merlin yanked it out of his hands. “Sir Leon, why’d you bring a flask to a feast? There’s wine everywhere, hand poured by loyal servants, and you brought your own drink? I thought you of all people would know the customs…” 

“Give that back you fool!” Dolohov snapped, reaching out and trying to grab it back. 

“Why don’t you drink the wine? It’s from Gawant, you’re sure to enjoy it much more than the liquor you’ve brought,” Merlin said, stuffing the flask into his back pocket. 

“What! Wait...I’m a knight of Camelot...how dare you! King Uther, arrest this peasant!” He ordered, suddenly realizing he had power over Merlin. Fortunately the King, and every guard, was on their side. 

“Nonsense! A peasant he may be, but he is correct. It is rude to bring your own drink to a banquet. Boy, bring the flask!” Uther ordered, and Merlin came over to place it in his hands. Dolohov jumped out of his seat, but he didn’t do anything, not to the King. He sank back into his seat, glowering at Merlin. 

“To compensate, my servant will be at your side ready to fill your cup at any moment,” Arthur said. 

“My pleasure, sir,” Merlin replied, causing a shiver to run down Arthur’s back. He loved when Merlin addressed him properly, but for all the wrong reasons. Merlin stood right behind Dolohov and filled his goblet halfway. He begrudgingly drank it, and watched with a dark expression as Uther stood to give his speech. 

Like always, Arthur drowned him out. He rested his chin in his palm and spent most of the speech drinking, or looking at Merlin. Their eyes met a few times, only for Merlin to scrunch his brow before Arthur turned beat red and looked away. Arthur didn’t know why, but something felt different about them.

Ever since Merlin had been rescued from the bandits there was something off about the way they interacted, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Merlin spoke to him like nothing was wrong, but Arthur could see it in his eyes that something had changed. Merlin seemed to be looking for something in Arthur, like he was digging deep to figure him out. Maybe someone had said something to him, or maybe a bandit had hit him on the head, but he was more observant of Arthur than he had been before. Arthur wasn’t too upset, he liked the attention from Merlin, but he hated that their whole chemistry felt off. 

“With that, let us return to our meals!” Uther said. He sat back down and chuckled into his drink, pleased with the speech he’d made. He let out a satisfied sigh before turning to Arthur and bringing him back to reality. “What did you think of my address Arthur?” 

“Oh, uh, it was eloquent as always father,” Arthur said. He hadn’t heard a word, how could he with such distractions in the room?

“I’m glad you think so. Were you keeping an eye on the sorcerer?” 

Oops. He’d been watching Merlin instead. Arthur looked over to see if Dolohov had changed or not. He hadn’t changed, at least not all the way. The tips of “Leon’s” hair were turning dark, and his skin bubbled as he transformed back into Antonin Dolohov. He was absolutely frantic. He patted his boot about a million times, unable to accept his wand was missing. Merlin could not have stepped in at a worse time. 

“More wine sir?” 

“You! You did this you sneaky, insolent bastard!” He whipped out a dagger and without hesitation plunged it into Merlin’s gut. The pitcher clashed to the floor, and Merlin slid down the wall clutching the wound. 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, forgetting everything and rushing to his side. The wand fell out of his lap and rolled across the floor, but Arthur didn’t care. He dropped beside Merlin and rested his hand over the wound, coating it red. 

All hell broke loose in the Dining Hall. Every guard in the room sprinted over to try and circle Dolohov. Blood curdling screams of terror erupted from the unsuspecting civilians. Dolohov catapulted himself over the table and shoved multiple guards to the side in order to reach his wand. The doors flew open, and the four wizards burst into the room. Arthur thought he heard Uther shout his name, but everything was jumbled background noise compared to Merlin’s gentle whimpers of agony. 

“The wizards,” Merlin seethed. “They aren’t supposed to be here!” Arthur brushed Merlin’s hair out of his face, and stroked it as a way to soothe both of them. 

“It doesn’t matter, I’m getting you out of here.” 

“Arthur, no! You have to fight. I was only stabbed, I'll be fine,” Merlin said, but Arthur was unconvinced. Merlin was trembling and his eyes were riddled with pain. It broke Arthur’s heart to see him like this. He wished it had been him instead. 

“Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? I’m saving your life and you’re not allowed to argue, that’s an order,” Arthur said, getting in the position to pick him up. 

“But-” 

“For once in your life Merlin, do as you’re told. Come on, I’m taking you to Gaius,” Arthur said. He scooped Merlin into his arms bridal style. 

“Ow! Arthur if you insist on carrying me, would you try to be careful?” Merlin hissed. Arthur rolled his eyes, but made sure to be more kind with his movements. 

“Arthur! What do you think you’re doing?” Uther yelled as Arthur hurried towards the exit. He hadn’t expected his father to be OK with Arthur saving a servant’s life. Arthur didn’t give a shit.

“I’ll be back!” Arthur called back. He bumped into Hermione on his way out, who looked on with grave concern. 

“Is he alright?” She asked. 

“Dolohov stabbed him. I’m taking him to Gaius.” With no further explanation, Arthur left the Dining Hall and went as fast as he could without hurting Merlin. As they ran, Merlin's eyelids began to droop, his skin turned clammy, and the front of his shirt was entirely soaked with blood. Arthur had only felt such dread a few times before, and unsurprisingly it always happened when Merlin’s life was in imminent danger. The worry encouraged him and kept his strength up. 

“Hang in there,” Arthur said to him as they began down the staircase to Gaius’s. He burst into the room to find Gaius at his desk eating soup. 

“Gaius, Merlin is hurt,” he said, placing him on the bed like he was fragile glass. 

“How?” Gaius asked, getting up and coming over. 

“He was stabbed. I’ll give you more information later but I need to return to the Dining Hall to help my father. Things haven’t gone as planned, and you’ll have to give an explanation for letting the kids escape again,” Arthur said, panting. His arms were shaking from exhaustion. 

“It wasn’t my fault-” 

“Later Gaius.” He looked down at Merlin, and suddenly he wondered if leaving was worth it. The last thing he wanted to do was leave his side. Merlin’s gaze softened, and when Gaius turned his back to collect medical materials, he reached up and caressed Arthur’s cheek. 

“They need you more than I do now,” he mumbled. Arthur felt awful doing it, but he backed away towards the door. He couldn’t abandon his people either.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” he said before running out the door. He sprinted back to the Dining Hall, dreading what had happened while he was gone. There were five people with immense capability in that room, along with dozens who had nothing to defend themselves. He ran in, and luckily, things weren’t too bad yet. Civilians had tipped over tables to hide behind them. Only the wizards were standing. Most of the guards, on the other hand, were dead. Some of them had cowered behind tables, sparing their lives.

The five wizards were in an intense standoff. Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione held their wands high, Dolohov had taken the same stance. 

“What you’ve done is unforgivable,” Harry said. “These are innocent people. Your quarrel is with us.” 

“They got in my way,” Dolohov said. There was no remorse in his voice. Draco was having the hardest time with this. His entire body was shaking with rage, sadness, hurt. It seemed like they knew each other well.

“You’re a killer, a monster, and to think I cared for you like family once.” 

“Oh don’t be so naive Draco. I’ve done far worse than kill, and Azkaban...it changes a man.” Dolohov said, like it was the most simple thing in the world.

“You put yourself in Azkaban with your own choices, Antonin.” Draco said. 

“I don’t regret my choices. Voldemort was the only man ever worth serving, and I, his most devout follower, will have a glorious life when he returns. Can you and your traitor family say the same?” It was in the man’s eyes, he was insane. “You need to choose where your loyalties lie, boy. Those three, they don’t care about you, they see you as a death eater and nothing else. They’d kill you if they had the chance. We are the only ones who want the best for you Draco, lower your wand, join me. I don’t want to harm you.” 

“I made my choice. I know my loyalties. I will never join you again.” 

“So be it. _Expelliarmus!”_ Dolohov shouted, but Draco blocked the spell. Arthur was frozen with fear. He wanted to help, but he had no magic to defend himself against Dolohov, and he had to return to Merlin alive. He dove behind one of the tables. If he could make his way around the room and get behind Dolohov, maybe he could detain him. Arthur peeked over the table. He was amazed with how beautiful the fight was. They fought with bursts and streams of colorful light, they kept their poise and elegance, it was nothing like a duel with normal weaponry. 

At first Arthur thought there was no way Dolohov would be able to hold off against all four of them, they cast their spells in such rapid succession. However, Dolohov was just as fast. From the outside it looked like pure chaos, but Arthur had to trust the wizards knew what they were doing. Arthur began to crawl along the tables. He hoped he was low enough that Dolohov couldn’t see him moving. 

“ _Bombardo!”_

Arthur didn’t know who said it, but a split second later there was a loud explosion. It was nowhere near him, but he pressed his back against the table in terror anyways. He didn’t want a plate to fly and hit him. He waited for the explosion dust to clear, and glanced over the table to see the carnage. Hermione, Ron, and Harry had been knocked back, only Draco stood against Dolohov. There was fierce emotion in his eyes as he shot spell after spell at him. Arthur felt for him, but he had to stop Dolohov before Draco faltered in their back and forth rhythm of spells. 

When Dolohov was fully distracted with Draco, Arthur took the opportunity to scurry across the floor to another section of toppled tables. He saw his father at the other end, and went around all the people cowering for their lives. 

“Arthur! I have never been so furious!” Uther hissed when they sat side by side. 

“For what? Saving Merlin’s life?” 

“For abandoning your fellow knights for a servant? Yes! We’ll talk about this later, we need to come up with a plan,” Uther said. 

“I have one. Stay here and leave it to me,” Arthur answered. He was too angry at his father to work with him. 

“No Arthur!” 

Arthur ignored him and leapt over the table. “Hey!” He shouted, distracting Dolohov for a short moment. That was all Draco needed to get the advantage. 

“ _Expelliarmus!”_ He cried. Dolohov’s wand flew out of his hand and to the farthest corner of the

“Damn you boy!” Dolohov exclaimed. It was unclear if he was talking to Draco or Arthur. With shaky legs, the others stood and pushed past the pain of whatever injuries they’d gotten from the explosion. Hermione’s lip was busted, Ron rubbed his shoulder, and Harry seemed to have trouble standing on his left foot. 

Ron raised his wand with his uninjured arm. “ _Incarcerous.”_ A rope appeared out of thin air and wrapped itself tight around Dolohov’s wrists. 

“Weasley! How dare you, you dirt eating blood traitor! I wish your entire family had perished at the Quidditch Cup! Would’ve cleansed the Wizarding World of one more stain!” He spat as he tugged furiously at his restraints. 

“Enough!” Draco shouted. He flicked his wand, muting Dolohov. 

“Guards!” Arthur shouted. He didn’t want to be the one to escort this man to jail, not alone at least. The ones still alive rose and crept towards Dolohov with understandable apprehension. In the meantime, Uther and the party-goers rose from their hiding spots. 

“Five sorcerers under my nose, I’ve lost control of my castle,” Arthur heard Uther mutter. “Did you know anything about these other sorcerers Arthur?” He asked, speaking louder. 

“No,” Arthur lied with the shake of his head. 

“That’s very concerning. Anyways, round the guards and have them detain these four sorcerers,” Uther ordered. 

Arthur hesitated. “But father, they-” 

“Are you defending them, Arthur? It doesn’t matter what they did, they wield evil and they must die for it. Now do as I say and collect their...sticks. We must study them and see what devilry is behind their power. I’m already furious with you son, I’ll advise you against disobeying,” Uther warned. Scared of what might happen to Merlin if he said no, Arthur followed his orders. 

“Yes sir,” he said. He approached the wizards and tried to convey his apology in his expression. “All of you are under arrest for the crime of sorcery. Guards, restrain them and take their magic

“Under arrest? We saved your lives, how is that fair?” Harry questioned as four guards came to place them in handcuffs. Dolohov was already being dragged out. 

“The law is the law, it’s out of my control. Take them away,” he said, and they were marched out to be delivered to the dungeons. Draco scowled at him on the way out, but Arthur took no offense, he deserved sour attitudes. 

“They’ll have their trial in the morning with Dolohov,” Uther said. Arthur wanted to go down and visit them, but he wanted to go check on Merlin even more. He left before Uther could keep him from going to Merlin. He sprinted through the castle to the Physician’s Wing. He arrived to find Merlin sitting up in his bed; he was pale, weak, it was a hard sight for Arthur to swallow. 

“Where’s Gaius? He’s supposed to be looking after you!” Arthur asked when he realized the old man was nowhere to be seen. 

“Relax, Arthur, I’m fine. Gaius did all he could, so he’s out getting fresh water,” Merlin said in a quiet, raspy voice. 

“Did he say how fast it’ll heal?” Asked Arthur. If Merlin was bed ridden for too long, Arthur would probably go a bit mad. 

“He said I can be up and about in a couple of days, it isn’t that bad,” Merlin told him. Arthur sat on the end of the bed, right next to Merlin’s feet. Even the slight movement of the mattress made Merlin wince.

“Are you in much pain?” He asked. He didn’t mean to let himself sound so worried, but he couldn’t help it. 

Merlin’s eyes flickered downwards, it was something he did when he was about to lie.

“No, not much.” It was obvious he was lying for Arthur’s benefit. It was a bad habit of his, masking the truth so Arthur wouldn’t fret more than he needed to. Arthur’s stomach sank. What had he been thinking, putting Merlin in danger’s way like that? He was so mad with himself, so frustrated he couldn’t do anything about Merlin’s pain, that his forehead felt strained from his eyebrows being furrowed. 

“Oh Arthur,” Merlin said. “Don’t blame yourself for this.” He glanced at Arthur’s hands, there was hesitation in his eyes, but he slowly reached out and rested a hand on Arthur’s anyways. Arthur’s heart jumped. It was such a simple touch, but it was enough to unravel his insides and make him lose all train of thought. Merlin seemed nervous, like he thought Arthur would pull away. It was a fair thought, he wasn’t supposed to touch Arthur like this, and Arthur wasn’t supposed to let him. But Arthur didn’t pull away. He never would have pulled away: not from him. 

“Tell me what happened, was Dolohov arrested?” Merlin asked with a slight smile after he realized Arthur’s hand was staying put. 

“Yes, but he wasn’t the only one,” Arthur said, and Merlin’s eyes widened with fear. 

“Oh no, the kids…” Merlin gasped. “All of them?” 

“I’m afraid so. There was nothing I could do, you know my father, he makes no exceptions. They’re trial will be in the morning with Dolohov’s,” Arthur explained. 

“We have to do something Arthur!” Merlin urged. He began to shift like he was going to get out of bed, Arthur put a stop to that. 

“I’ll manage it,” Arthur said, touching his shoulder so he’d stay put. “You can help by resting and healing, alright?” 

He sighed and crossed his arms. “Fine, but you have to promise you’ll do everything in your power to save them.” 

“That’s the plan,” Arthur replied. 

“Arthur!” Uther stood in the doorway looking like he wanted to strangle something. “Back to the Dining Hall, now! I thought you know better than to run off like that!” Arthur jumped up from the bed, hopefully Uther had just arrived. 

“I’m sorry father,” Arthur lied.

“You’d better be,” Uther growled. “Follow me, now!” Arthur hung his head, he was in for it.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

It was fitting that rain poured from the sky the next morning. Arthur had only gotten a wink of sleep, and the substitute servant he’d gotten was awful. He was quiet, timely, and did everything Arthur said without question; he was more like furniture than a person. Arthur wasn’t afraid to admit he was biased. Who wouldn’t be biased when they woke up to an adorable beam and gorgeous blue eyes every morning. Because his usual routine had been disturbed, he was grumpy as he stood in the throne room waiting for the trial to start. 

Only a handful of people were there. Uther, Morgana, his closest advisors, and the highest ranking knights. Many were grieving the deaths of their fellow guardsmen, so the mood hung over the room like storm clouds.

First came Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. Their faces were somber as they lined up in front of Uther. Hermione looked like she had been crying. It broke Arthur’s heart, they were young, they were kind (with one exception), and they were separated from their families who had no idea this was happening. They didn’t deserve to die. Arthur began to wonder how many sorcerers like them he’d arrested and put to death, all for something out of their control. Guilt ate him up inside, especially when they looked at him with hope. Uther was an iron fist when it came to magic, Arthur would only let them down when he couldn’t save them from their pyres. 

Soon after, Antonin Dolohov was brought in by five guards. He was met with hateful stares and forbidding silence. He had the audacity to approach Uther’s throne with a cocky grin.

“You keep a fine dungeon, your majesty. It’s less of a punishment and more like a holiday compared to where I’ve been the past year,” Dolohov said. 

“How dare you speak out of turn!” Uther boomed. No prisoner Arthur had ever seen exuded the same foolish arrogance Dolohov did, he was sure to receive a harsh sentence now. 

“I’ll speak when I please,” answered Dolohov, causing murmurs to erupt throughout the room. 

Uther turned bright red with anger. Dolohov was making it clear that he did not fear, and he did not respect Uther. Arthur was unsure if there was precedent for such a reckless display of insolence under Uther’s rule. Uther made a wise move by seizing their conversation and focusing on the other four. 

“You, what are your names?” 

“My name is Hermione Granger, sire,” Hermione said, bowing in reverence. 

“Harry Potter, your majesty,” he copied her smart move and bowed. 

“Ronald Weasley, your highness,” he said bowing. 

“Draco Malfoy.” Arthur shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes and bowed. “Your majesty.” 

Arthur gauged Uther’s reaction, he was pleased. “Because of your heroic actions at the feast last night, I’ll allow you one chance to defend yourselves and earn a less painful death.” They looked around at each other, none of them wanted to put all of their neck’s on the line. 

Everyone watched in confusion as they punched their own palms and made shapes with their fingers. Hermione was upset with the outcome, and she frowned as she stepped up to do the talking. Arthur thought this was for the best, she had a good head on her shoulders. 

“Your highness, we’re from a land so far away that we had not heard of Camelot. Where we’re from, wizardry is legal, we aren’t used to the laws of this land. I promise you, we have not, nor will we ever harm a citizen of Camelot with our magic.” 

“You know, I think the King should let you go, Granger. A mudblood like you shouldn’t count as a witch,” Dolohov spat. By the look on her face, Arthur knew what he’d said was far from nice. 

“Silence!” Uther shouted. “Ms Granger, do you and your allies know this man?” 

“Oh we’re nice and cozy. I’ve known Draco Malfoy his entire life, we’re like family. I knew your uncles Weasley: Gideon and Fabian. And your guy’s favorite mutt? Remus Lupin? I knew him too…” 

“How dare you say their names! You murdered ‘em you bloody bastard!” Ron blurted. When word of what happened at this trial got out, it would be the juiciest gossip in Camelot for ages. 

“And we are not like family!” Draco added. 

“Order!” Uther cried, but he was ignored. 

“Don’t lie to yourself my boy. We have matching tattoos.” Dolohov pulled down his sleeve with his teeth. He held out his forearm, revealing the image of a snake wrapped around a skull etched into his skin. “Go on, show them Draco.” Draco’s face was ghastly pale, he looked like he’d been caught in a devastating lie. 

“Why don’t you back off?” Harry quipped. This was surprising to Arthur, he thought they loathed each other. Ron and Hermione raised their eyebrows at him, but Harry didn’t see. 

“Everyone, be quiet!” Uther screamed, capturing their attention again. “Guards, roll up his sleeves!” Two guards came up behind Draco and yanked his white sleeves back. It was true, he had the exact same snake and skull. He hung his head in deep shame as everyone whispered to themselves. 

Morgana, who was standing beside Arthur, leaned over and muttered, “This gets more entertaining by the second.” 

“You think this is entertaining? These kids will be killed.”

“What can I say, I like the drama.” 

Arthur sighed, and waited for Uther to move the trial forwards. He prayed his father would show some kindness. 

“I’ve made my decision,” Uther said. “I understand that there has been some ignorance in regard to Camelot’s laws, but sorcery is sorcery, I can’t make any exceptions. All of you will be put to death.” 

“No!” Hermione shrieked, throwing herself at Ron and pressing her face into his shirt. Harry looked at Arthur, pleading for him to do something. Not only had Arthur made a promise to Merlin, but at this point he cared for these wizards too much to let this happen. 

“Hold on father, maybe we should think about this,” Arthur said. “Antonin Dolohov should die, he killed eight men and stabbed Merlin-” 

Dolohov’s face fell at the mention of Merlin’s name. 

“Merlin? That servant I knifed was  _ Merlin? _ ” Again, one of these future wizards recognized Merlin’s name. A pit formed in Arthur’s gut. Merlin was hiding something from him: something big. Whatever it was, the next time they spoke Arthur would get an answer from him, damn the consequences. Arthur had to pretend like he was not gravely disconcerted, and ignored Dolohov. 

“But we owe the others our lives, will we repay them by taking theirs? They’re young, father, maybe we can be lenient,” Arthur said. Uther looked furious that Arthur had questioned him, but he didn’t reprimand him right away. 

“What would you have me do? Exile them? That’s as good as setting them free,” Uther responded. 

“I’m not saying we set them free. Perhaps we could only imprison them. Who knows, it might be useful to have them at our disposal. You saw the way they fight, they'd be excellent weapons on the battlefield,” Arthur said. Uther’s anger faded, he seemed to be considering Arthur’s suggestion. 

“It’s true, they would be helpful in hunting down other sorcerers as well. Give me a minute to think,” Uther said. Arthur exhaled in relief, the wizards did the same. The room was tense with anticipation as Uther mulled it over. After minutes of wallowing in silence, he made his decision. 

“Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter…” They huddled close together as they awaited their fates. Distress was rampant on their faces. “I order the three of you to life in prison. You will aid Camelot when she is in need, if you refuse you will be killed.” Arthur was bursting with joy, but only for a brief second. A name was missing. 

“Draco Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov will be put to death,” Uther declared. Draco’s mouth began to quiver and his whole body began to shake. Ron and Hermione looked at him with upset eyes and dropped jaws, but they were silent. Harry, on the other hand, was distraught. 

“What? No! You can’t do this!” He shouted. He yanked against his cold iron cuffs in anger. 

“I am the king, I can do what I please. One more word and you’ll die with him,” said Uther. If it was Arthur Harry had been glaring at, he would have been scared for his life. 

“Do what he says Harry, I’m not worth dying over,” Draco muttered. Hearing that, Harry only got angrier, but he bit his tongue and seethed to himself. 

“Father,” Arthur whispered. “May I ask why?” 

“You saw his arm. I can’t trust someone with the same exact markings as a sorcerer who killed eight of my men,” Uther said to Arthur.

Dolohov opened his mouth to yammer on again.  “You are quite a laughable man, Uther. You sit on your throne, so high and mighty, thinking you have the jurisdiction to decide whether men live or die. You think you’re the most important man alive. The reality is,  _ your majesty,  _ there are people in this castle who will have far greater legacies than you. People you deem lowly servants will be revered legends, and you’ll be a footnote.” 

Was he talking about Merlin again? That boy had some serious explaining to do. 

“I’ve had enough of this. Take them away,” Uther said, pretending he was nonchalant about what Dolohov had said. Dolohov bowed to him in a mocking way before he was grabbed and taken out of the room. The wizards left shortly after. Uther dismissed the court, and Arthur made a break for the dungeons. Clearly, he would be involved in a jailbreak sometime soon, and he needed to let the wizards in on it. 

When he got there, the situation was grim. Draco had been separated and put into the cell next to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Dolohov must have been in an area with higher security. Hermione and Ron, for the first time Arthur knew them, were separated. They sat in opposite corners of their cell, sulking to themselves. Harry paced around biting his nails. Just looking at him made Arthur more stressed. Arthur instructed the other guards to leave so he could be alone with them. Harry saw Arthur approach and rushed to the iron bars. 

“How are you holding up?” Arthur asked. 

“Terrible. Thanks for asking,” Harry sassed. He glanced over his shoulder at his friends, who were far too depressed to get up and talk to Arthur. When Harry saw they weren’t paying attention, he lowered his voice. “You have to get him out of here Arthur! You can’t let him die! He’s made mistakes but he’s far from evil, he deserves to live. I’m  _ begging  _ you to get him out of here before he’s executed!” 

“Relax, alright? All of you are getting out of here. I have a plan. Do you know where they took your wands?” Arthur asked. 

“I overheard the guards talking about some kind of evidence vault, they might be there,” Harry said. Arthur knew what he was talking about. If he wasn’t involved, those wands would never see the light of day again. 

“That’s going to be a problem. That vault is guarded every second of each day, and nothing is allowed out. It would be impossible for me to get the wands without being caught,” Arthur said. 

“You’re the prince, I thought you could get away with anything,” Harry replied. 

“Not this. My father is very strict when it comes to the criminal process,” Arthur said. 

“What are you saying then? Your plan won’t work?” 

“No, no. It just needs tweaking. Here’s what’ll happen: I’m going to get the keys to your cells. In the meantime, I’ll have someone create a distraction to get the guards to another part of the prison. The only guards who won’t move are the ones at the evidence vault, that’s the part I’m going to have to work on. Once you’re free and we have your wands, we’ll head to a tunnel that leads to a gate that leads to the wilderness. Somebody will be waiting on the other side to open the gate and let us out. From there, we’ll find a place for you to lie low and wait for Dolohov’s execution,” Arthur explained. 

“That sounds foolproof,” Harry said sarcastically. 

“Have some faith, this isn’t the first time I’ve broken people out of jail,” Arthur told him. He heard the footsteps of guards coming their way, and it was time to leave. “I have to go, but I’ll be back tonight. Hang in there until then.” Just before the guards arrived, Arthur walked away and made his way to the stairs. He knew that Merlin would want to know what was happening, and Arthur had some questions he needed answered. 

He arrived at Gaius’s quarters to find them working on a potion together. “No Merlin! I said four teaspoons, not four tablespoons!” 

“Oops, my bad,” Merlin said. “Oh hi Arthur.” 

“Shouldn’t you be lying down?” Arthur asked. It hadn’t been that long since the injury. 

“It’s healing faster than we anticipated,” Gaius said. He turned around on the bench and faced Arthur. “How did the trial go?” 

“It was interesting to say the least-”

“What about the wizards?” Merlin interrupted. 

“I was getting to that. I managed to get Harry, Ron, and Hermione off the hook with life in prison, but Draco wasn’t so lucky. He had the same marking as Dolohov, it was too damning for my father to ignore,” he said. He watched Merlin remeasure some sort of powder with a teaspoon. He was captivating to Arthur, sure. But what about him was so special it made the wizards gasp when they learned his name? 

“We are going to do something about this, right?” Merlin asked. 

“I already visited them and told Harry I was going to break them out. I’m planning on doing the same thing we did with that druid boy. We’ll have to get their wands from the evidence vault though, that will prove a challenge, but they’ll be gone from the castle by tomorrow morning,” Arthur said. Merlin set down his teaspoon and stepped away from the table. 

“I want to help with this, surely there’s something I can do.” 

Looking at him, Arthur knew they couldn’t have a proper conversation until things were cleared up. 

“Gaius, could you give us a moment to speak alone?” Arthur asked. Merlin seemed alarmed. 

“Sure. Don’t touch the potion ingredients.” Was all Gaius said before leaving. Merlin was quiet, he knew he was being confronted. Arthur took it upon himself to start. 

“What are you hiding from me Merlin?” Arthur inquired. His reluctance to look Arthur in the eye let him know he was onto something. 

“Nothing. Why do you think I’m hiding something?” 

“Don’t lie to me. Every single time these future wizards have met you, they’ve known your name and acted like you’re some kind of big deal, why is that?” Arthur questioned, tired of his BS. 

Merlin shrugged and his eyes flickered down. “I don’t know,” he lied. 

“I’m not stupid. You’re a suspicious person, Merlin. You disappear to the tavern far more often than you should, you’re always involved in things a manservant shouldn’t be involved in. I want to know why!” Arthur demanded. Merlin attempted to walk around him and head out the door, but Arthur blocked him. 

“You don’t want to know,” Merlin warned him. 

“Yes, I do! I want to be able to trust you!” 

“You can! You don’t have to know everything about me to do that though!” 

“Dammit Merlin! Stop trying to guilt me when you’re the one keeping secrets! Tell me!” He shouted so loud Gaius must have heard. 

“You know what, I have  _ your  _ chores that need attending.” Arthur opened his mouth to push harder, but he was cut off. “Now, I think I have a way to get the wands out of the evidence vault. I’ll meet you in your room at ten tonight, if you want my help, and are willing to have a calm conversation, tell me then.” Merlin bumped against him and stormed out the door. Arthur’s jaw clenched, and he smoldered with the frustration that Merlin had managed to evade his questions. At least Arthur knew for sure he was being lied to. 

Moments after Merlin left, Gaius came back with a puzzled expression. “What did you say to make him so upset, your highness?” 

“He’s hiding something from me, and I confronted him about it. That’s what. You’re close to him, do you know if he’s hiding any big secrets?” 

“No, sire,” Gaius replied. 

“If you notice anything strange,” Arthur said. “Make sure to tell me.” There was nothing left for him in that room, so he went to make preparations for that night.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

There were two hours until midnight, and one minute past when Merlin said he would be there. Most of the plan was set in stone. Morgana was going to distract the guards while Arthur freed the wizards. She said that she’d have someone waiting by the gate to let them out, but she hadn’t clarified who. Arthur trusted her, so he wasn’t worried about her failing him. The part he was worried about was the evidence vault. Not only was he mad at Merlin, but he had no clue how Merlin would manage to take the wands without getting himself killed. Then again, he was clearly good at hiding important things, so maybe he could do it. 

Arthur wondered if he had been inappropriate, approaching Merlin like that. He often tried to keep his deeper emotions reserved around Merlin, they were still servant and master, arguments like that weren’t considered professional. However, any professional boundaries Arthur and Merlin had somehow managed to maintain disappeared the second Merlin caressed his cheek the previous night, so he didn’t feel compelled to hide his feelings like he should. 

Arthur was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the door open.

“Arthur.”

The voice startled him, but not enough for him to lose composure. 

“Merlin. You’re late.” 

“I was busy.” 

“What could you be busy with?” 

“I may be your servant, but I have a life outside of you, as small as it might be.” 

Arthur should have chastised him for being so snappy with him, but the boundaries were gone, “should” didn’t mean a thing anymore. 

“So,” Merlin said, voice rich with attitude. “Do you want my help with the evidence vault, or not?” 

“Depends, will you tell me how you’re going to get the wands?” Arthur inquired.

Merlin sighed in exasperation. “No, I can’t.” 

At this point, Arthur was beginning to feel more hurt than anything. Why didn’t Merlin trust him in the way Arthur trusted him? Was there something he had said, or done? 

“Why?” Arthur asked quietly. “I’ve never said it before, because I thought maybe you knew, but I trust you more than anyone. I can be more honest with you than I am with my own father...I know you have Gaius, but I thought perhaps you felt the same about me.” 

Merlin’s hardened expression dissipated, and he gazed at Arthur with pity. “I do feel that way, and I want to tell you, but everything is too complicated. I’d be putting you in a terrible position, and I just can’t do that to you Arthur.” 

“So what? Am I going to be in the dark forever?” He asked. 

“I don’t know. Maybe one day I’ll tell you when you’re king, but when I do it will be my choice, alright? You can’t force it out of me. You’re going to have to trust I’m not telling you for the right reasons,” Merlin said. His stubbornness was the most irritating part of his personality, but it was also one of the most appealing. Arthur couldn’t help but smirk. Like he’d said, he trusted him more than anyone, Merlin had his faith. 

“I understand. Here, why don’t you sit so I can explain the plan and figure out how to get you into that vault,” Arthur said. For the first time that day, Arthur got to see him smile. 

\------

Merlin, Arthur and Morgana made their way through the sleeping castle and to the dungeons. Arthur was still worried over Merlin’s stabwound, so they didn’t move any faster than a brisk walk. It was for no reason, though, just like his arm, he and Gaius had used magic to heal the stabwound that morning. Merlin humored Arthur anyways, after their fight, Arthur deserved it. They neared the spiral staircase that went to the prison, and Morgana put up her hood. 

“Thanks again for doing this Morgana, I owe you one,” Arthur said. 

“It’s no bother. These kids have done nothing wrong, and don’t worry. I’ll find a way for you to repay me one day,” Morgana said in a very assured way. 

“How do you plan on distracting the guards, my lady?” Merlin asked. 

“With pizazz. Wait five minutes. I promise the guards will be gone and the keys will be on the table,” she said confidently. 

“We’re holding you to that. Go,” Arthur instructed. She made the descent, and a minute later, there were loud shouts of alarm. They did as they were told and waited five minutes in silence. To pass the time, they took turns staring at each other and admiring how the other looked in the dim lighting. Once the time was up, they snuck down the stairs in case any guards were still there. 

“Coast is clear,” Merlin whispered. They hurried down the rest of the steps and over to the table. Morgana had done as she’d said, the ring of keys were there. Arthur scooped it up and put it in his deepest pocket. There were many long hallways leading to different portions of the jail. Luck was on their side, the evidence vault was nowhere near the wizards’ cells. Merlin and Arthur walked side by side down the stone corridor. They reached an iron door with a large padlock and two statue-still guards. 

“Your highness,” they spoke in creepy unison. 

“Men. I’ve given my manservant permission to access the evidence vault. I command you to let him through,” he ordered. Arthur used his authoritative voice and distracted Merlin. It was much sexier when it wasn’t directed at him in anger. The knights eyed Merlin, unconvinced.

“Do as I say or I’ll have you fired,” Arthur threatened, and they were much quicker to comply. Merlin stepped inside and the door was slammed behind him. Yet, he wasn’t alone. On the other side of the door were two more guards. As Merlin crossed the room, which was cluttered with dusty items forgotten to time, he was watched like a hawk. At the far end of the vault, Merlin could see a tiny wooden table with five wands strewn across its surface. 

“Jackpot!” he muttered. He approached the table and glanced over his shoulder, the guards were still watching his every move. But, his back obscured their view of the wands and they had no way to see his eyes. It wasn’t hard figuring out the one that was Dolohov’s. None of the kids had a skull shaped wand. 

He focused all his attention on Ron’s wand. “ _Macasamhlú,”_ he whispered. The wand got blurry, and like a cell dividing, an exact replica of the wand shimmered into existence. Merlin took the real wand and discreetly stuffed it down the front of his pants. If the guards wanted to pat him down, they wouldn’t get _that_ frisky. He repeated himself until all four wands were in his pants, and all of them had replacement. Whether the fakes worked or not had no relevance. Merlin played it off with confidence. He strutted past the guards, flashed a smile, and waved to them before leaving the vault. 

Out in the hallway, Arthur leaned against the wall waiting for him. Before Merlin could take another step, he was stopped by the knights. Like Merlin had suspected, they started a full body pat down. They went from his shoulders, to his arms, to his armpits, to his chest, to his stomach, and to his a- 

“That’s enough!” Arthur exclaimed. His cheeks burned bright red. “Come on Merlin, we haven’t got all day!” He grasped him and yanked him away from the guards, who stood there looking baffled. 

At the end of the hallway, Arthur asked about the wands. “Got them?” Merlin nodded and pointed to his crotch. “Those poor wizards,” Arthur said with a scrunched up nose. 

“I had nowhere else to put them! The guards in there wouldn’t take their eyes off of my back!” Merlin informed him, but Arthur still laughed at him until they arrived at the cells. The wizards were wide awake as they waited for them. 

“Thank god!” Hermione exclaimed as they rushed over. “We were beginning to think you’d never show up!” 

“Shh! Until we get out, stay quiet and keep your heads down. We don’t know when a guard will be around the corner! Merlin, give them their wands,” Arthur said. The first to come out of his pants was Draco’s. He was extremely reluctant to take it. 

“You put our wands in your pants?!” He whispered in utter disgust. 

“Yes, no time to explain,” Merlin replied as he returned the rest. 

“I’ll just wash it with bleach or something,” Harry mumbled, earning an airy laugh from Draco. 

“What did I just say? Everybody shut up, that means you too Merlin!” Arthur hissed. He unlocked the cells and they tiptoed out into freedom.

Arthur took the lead and waved them after him. In complete silence, they shuffled down the maze-like hallways in a single file line. If Arthur thought he heard a noise, they would press up against the closest wall and hold their breath until he thought it was safe. However, Morgana had done a stellar job of distracting the guards, so they made it to the gate without a hitch. It was pitch black outside, so it was impossible to tell if anyone was on the other side. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Arthur called through the gate. 

“Arthur! Oh thank goodness you’re safe!” Gwen was on the other side. 

“Guinevere? You’re the one Morgana sent?” Arthur asked, sounding irritated. 

“Yes. I’m doing it for Ron and Hermione, and I’m doing it for you,” she said, sending a pang of emotional agony straight to Merlin’s heart. Hermione glanced back at Merlin, giving him an empathetic look. 

“Oh-uh-um-” he sputtered, unsure what to say. “Would you just open the gate please?” The awkward silence that followed was deafening. 

“Sure.”

There was a loud creaking sound, and at last, they escaped into the forest. The second they resealed the gate, Hermione and Ron embraced in a fit of joy. 

“Don’t get presumptuous, alright?” Arthur said, cutting their PDA party short. “We still have to find a place for you to hide. Once my father knows you’re gone, he’ll hunt you relentlessly, and you won’t get life in prison at your second trial.” 

“I didn’t get it at my first,” Draco grumbled. Gwen reached out to pat his shoulder in comfort, but after the look he gave her, she retracted her arm. He barely finished his sentence before alarm bells echoed through the sky, signaling to everyone in Camelot that something was amiss. 

“Arthur,” Merlin said. “Surely we’ve come across an abandoned cabin somewhere during our travels.” 

“I don’t care if we stay in a cave, I don’t wanna get recaptured!” Ron said. 

“You won’t. A cave might be safer, actually. The closest cabin is an old logger’s place, and that’s the only place escaped fugitives ever hide. There’s a well hidden cavern just south of here, not many know of it, I’ll lead the way,” Arthur said. With the help of Harry’s wand, the forest was lit. 

As they walked, Gwen fell beside Merlin. “He’s so handsome when he takes charge like this,” Gwen sighed to him. Merlin hung his head and pretended like what she was saying didn’t put rocks in his stomach. “I know, I know, you don’t want to hear about me talk about men, but you’re the only one who knows about us. Who else am I supposed to talk to?” 

“He ended things, didn’t he?” Merlin reminded her. 

“He tried to, but I know he’ll come back like always. He thinks we can’t be together because he’s a prince and I’m a handmaiden, but I believe he’ll soon see past our differences and come to his senses. You know him better than anyone, what do you think?” She asked. 

Merlin didn’t want her false hope to continue, so he was honest. “He’s serious this time. I’m sorry but it’s true.” He looked away, he didn’t want to see her face. 

“Oh,” she whispered in a broken voice. “Are you certain? Because-” 

“I’m certain.” 

“Do you...do you know why?” 

Was Merlin _certain_ why? He could never be. Did he have a pretty good guess? Definitely. He chose the easiest route. “This is personal, Gwen, I think you should ask him,” he advised kindly. 

“I guess you’re right,” she said. It was too dark to see, but she was crying. 

******

Arthur was unaware of this. He led the party to the cave, and only realized Gwen was weeping when they arrived at their destination. The uncomfortable look on Merlin’s face told Arthur that he’d been dealing with it, so Arthur decided it was best if he let Merlin continue dealing with it. 

“Here we are,” Arthur announced. “Cave sweet cave.” 

“Don’t forget to take off your shoes,” Harry said. Hermione was the only one who laughed. “I was only joking,” he disclaimed after seeing Ron and Draco confusedly lean for their shoes. 

“These forests will be swarming with knights soon, I recommend you enter the cave swiftly,” Arthur said, gesturing for them to slip between the rocks. They entered one by one. It wasn’t the largest place in the world. It was as big as Arthur’s room, and the path that led deeper into the earth was blocked by fallen rocks. 

“I take it back, I’d rather be at a cabin,” Ron mumbled to himself. 

“I don’t care where we hide, I’m starving. Please tell me one of you brought food,” Harry said. 

“Sorry, we’re empty handed,” Merlin said. 

“It shouldn’t be that big of a deal. You made beds appear out of thin air, why not a nice turkey dinner?” Arthur asked, his mouth watering at the thought. 

“It doesn’t work with food,” Hermione told him. This made him sad. 

“Well, it’s too late for hunting because it’s so damn dark. It’s getting close to one am, do you think you can hold out for daybreak?” Arthur asked. With a nod and a yawn, Harry slid down the cavern wall. The others copied his idea. Ron and Hermione cuddled up together, and Draco sat across from Harry. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep there. Maybe food isn’t an option, but you can still conjure beds,” Merlin said. 

“Too exhausted to try,” Hermione murmured. Arthur felt bad leaving them in a dark cave in the middle of the night, but there was no doubt his father would want to speak with him about the escaped prisoners.

“Okay then, if everything here is settled, I need to get back to Camelot. My father will be furious if he can’t find me tonight, and it’s my duty to be there when Dolohov is executed,” Arthur explained. 

“If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here with them. If guards come knocking, one of us should be here to cover for them, and I can always claim I was out picking herbs,” Merlin offered. Arthur wasn’t happy with this plan.

“You’ve been stabbed, Merlin, you should return to Gaius for medical supervision.”

“I’ve had worse injuries, you’ve seen them. I can manage,” Merlin replied. All of Arthur wanted to tell him no, it was too dangerous, but he had a point. If he truly wished to remain with the wizards, as hard as it was, Arthur needed to let him. 

“Fine.” He huffed. “But I’m escorting Gwen home, and that’s not up for debate.” Gwen nodded in approval. “Stay safe, I’ll return as soon as possible,” he said. Although Ron and Harry were already fast asleep. He waved goodbye to Merlin, and they left the cave. 

It was a short walk to the nearest main gate, twenty minutes at the least. But every single minute walking with Gwen felt like an hour, and not in a good way. Uncomfortable, awkward, unpleasant; no words were strong enough to describe the feeling as they walked without either of them uttering a word. It was worse, because Arthur could tell she was working up the courage to say something, but he couldn’t tell her to spit it out. 

At long last, she broke the silence. “Arthur, when you said you only wanted to be friends...did you mean it?” Her tone was low, timid. How did Arthur approach this? Does he rip the bandage off, or does he let her down gently? The solution escaped him. 

“It’s nothing you did Guinevere. I already told you that,” Arthur said. The last thing he wanted was to have this conversation again, it had been horrible enough the first time. 

“I thought you might be lying to yourself. I mean, after everything I thought it was impossible for us to be over. I was your true love’s kiss,” she said, her voice wavering. That was true, but Arthur _knew_ that Merlin would have worked just as well. However, back then, being with Merlin was more of a dream than a reality. To him, only Gwen was tangible, even if looked down upon it would never be as forbidden as anything he could have with Merlin. For so long, that was part of what kept him from Merlin and with Gwen. The speech Merlin gave him at the wedding forced him to realize it.

“I like you Gwen, and my feelings for you were always real, but we can only be friends. If I were to continue this it would be unfair to you,” Arthur explained. 

“Why would it be unfair? I want to be with you, if anything this is unfair! You won’t even tell me the real reason this is happening!” She froze in her tracks to look up at him with furious eyes. 

“It’s complicated, Gwen,” Arthur said. He knew how he sounded, there was nothing worse than getting a vague answer about an important topic. He’d just experienced it that day with Merlin. But he couldn’t tell her, she’d hate him. 

“I don’t care, I deserve an answer! If you ever cared about me, you would tell me the truth!” 

“You don’t want it! ” Arthur exclaimed. He knew she was right, but it would only hurt her worse if she knew. 

“Tell me, now!” Gwen cried, shoving him weakly. 

“You really want the truth Gwen? Then don’t blame me when you end up feeling worse than you already do, because I warned you!” Arthur shouted. He wasn’t angry, more guilty, but he felt trapped and it caused him to lash out. 

“Yes, you coward!” 

“Fine! I’m in love with somebody else!” 

The wind was his response. Gwen got so quiet, if Arthur reached out and found she wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be surprised. She simmered in his words until she began to bawl so loud it drowned out the birds. 

“I-I thought what we had was special,” she choked.

“It was, but this person...they keep me awake and thinking of them all night, they smile and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ll ever witness in my life, they touch me and it lingers on my skin for hours, they enter the room and I can focus on nothing but them. I’ve tried to ignore it, Gwen, but I can’t any longer. If I do it might drive me insane.” He’d been keeping it bottled up for so long, even in these less than ideal circumstances, telling someone just a fraction of how he felt about Merlin made him tear up. It felt like a wall inside of him had been blown to pieces, and everything trapped behind it was bursting forth into freedom. 

“I never made you feel like this?” She asked. Arthur thought back to that stream outside of the Tunnels of Andor. He’d said similar words about Gwen to Merlin, but honestly, he didn’t think they'd been about her. They were more about Merlin then as well, even if they’d been disguised with makeup. This, however, was completely honest, he wasn’t using anyone to hide how he felt, which is why it felt like a relief to say. 

“No,” he admitted. There was another long pause of nothing but crying before she spoke again. 

“Is she prettier than me?” Gwen asked. 

“There is no girl prettier than you, Guinevere,” Arthur said. In the darkness, he thought he saw a faint smile on her face, but it faded.

“Who?” She choked. 

“I can’t,” Arthur rasped, trying to manage the painful lump in his throat. If she never wanted to see him again, he could live with that, all of this was his own damn fault. But Merlin was innocent in this conversation. He was one of her best friends, if she found out and decided to cut him off because of how Arthur felt, it would break Merlin. Arthur wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened. 

“Is it someone I know? The Lady Vivienne? Morgana? I have to know, Arthur, it’ll kill me if I don’t know who’s giving you what I can’t.” She spoke with such desperation, Arthur couldn’t refuse her. Gwen was a good person, if she shunned Merlin because of this, Arthur would be shocked. The tears began to roll. This was his deepest, darkest secret, it was harder than anything to let go. 

“No, it’s none of them,” he spoke with a tremor. He turned his head and pursed his trembling lips, the taste of wet salt was fresh on his tongue. “I’m in love with Merlin,” he admitted with a heavy sob. 

“Merlin?!” She gasped so loud it echoed. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. Arthur tried to pull himself together, but ultimately failed. 

“I-I didn’t know. God I feel so stupid!” Gwen cried, burying her face in her hands. “He’s been under my nose the entire time!” 

“Please, don’t blame him for this,” Arthur said. Merlin wasn’t going to take the fall for him. 

“It depends. Do you think he loves you back?” 

There it was. The one question he was hoping she wouldn’t ask, because no matter how hard she pried, Arthur didn’t know the answer. 

“I don’t know. Like I said, it’s complicated,” he murmured. Gwen turned from him and ran her hands through her hair. 

“This is bad Arthur, really bad! He’s your _man_ servant! Am I the only one who knows this? I hope so!” At this point, she sounded like she was in disbelief more than anything. 

“You’re the only one,” Arthur assured her. 

“This is just too much for me. So many thoughts are going through my head, but mostly I feel sorry for you. I’m sorry that you felt Merlin was too off limits, so I was the second choice. I’m sorry you had to drag me along and give me so much hope, when in reality you were only trying to distract yourself from him. I feel sorry, because from what you’ve told me, you’ll never find anybody you love as much as him. You’ll be alone for the rest of your life because guess what Arthur, no matter what, you’ll never be able to have him. I’m sorry. If you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and heartbroken, so I think I’ll go home.” Gwen gave her speech and began to walk in the wrong direction. 

“Where are you going?!” 

“I’m not walking with you anymore, I’m going to the other gate.”

“The other gate? That’s forty minutes out of the way! It’s dark and dangerous, you can’t walk alone!” 

“Right now, I’d rather take my chances with bandits and predators then spend another minute with you,” Gwen snapped. Arthur wanted to fight her, but he didn’t have the energy, and he was eager to get away from her too. Also, it was Gwen, there was no changing her mind. 

“Just...don’t do anything stupid! And don’t tell anyone what I told you!” Arthur called as she got farther and farther away. She never responded. Arthur sighed and stood for minutes trying to regain composure. If there was a choice, he would have slid down the trunk of a tree to wallow in his own pity until sunrise. However, he had to shove his emotions to the side and keep going, there were more important things happening than his messy love life. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Arthur stood in front of his father, unsure if he’d heard him correctly. It was way early in the morning and Arthur hadn’t gone to bed, so it was possible he was hearing things. 

“He’s gone?! That makes no sense, he was bound in cold iron and everything!” Arthur exclaimed. 

“We don’t know how Dolohov did it. He must have had help from the people who released the other four sorcerers,” Uther said. Arthur shook his head, neither he nor Merlin had gone anywhere near Dolohov’s cell. 

“Was he able to get his wand?” asked Arthur. 

“I’m afraid so. The men guarding the evidence vault were found with their throats slit, and his was the only wand missing,” Uther explained, but that also made no sense. Merlin had taken all the wands _but_ Dolohov’s. 

“Is there anything I can do to help the search, father?” Arthur offered, even though he could feel his eyes drooping. 

“No, Arthur. You look worse than death itself, go and sleep. Plenty of men are investigating the dungeons and scouring the forests as we speak, men who are well rested,” Uther said. Arthur felt like collapsing with relief. 

“I’ll see to it at once,” Arthur said, bowing. He swiftly exited the throne room and made his way to his own room. It was different without having Merlin to help undress him and prepare him for bed, but he was so excited to sleep he was glad not to have the extra steps. All he did was kick off his boots and fall back onto the mattress. If he hadn’t just gone through one of the longest, most emotionally taxing days of his life, he would have reflected on what had happened with Gwen. But nope, he fell asleep in minutes. 

\-----------------

“Your highness! Your highness!” Somebody hovered over Arthur, shaking him violently. 

“Merlin,” he groaned in irritation. Arthur then remembered that Merlin was in a cave nowhere near his bedroom. His heart sank when he realized it wasn’t him, despite his disappointment he rolled over to see who it was. It was a brown haired servant he’d seen around the castle a few times, but Arthur couldn’t put a name to the face. “Wot?” He huffed. 

“I apologize for waking you from such a restful sleep my lord, but it’s noon, the King has requested your presence, and Merlin is not in the castle. You must get up, it’s urgent,” The servant explained, pulling on his hand in an attempt to sit Arthur up. He was too afraid to use the force Merlin would have. 

“Did he say what it’s about?” Arthur yawned as he stretched and placed his feet on the floor. 

“No sir. His majesty told me to have you there in thirty minutes or he’d put me in the stocks.”

“He’s quite impatient, isn’t he? Alright, leave me be, I’d like to get ready,” Arthur said as he stood up. The servant didn’t leave. 

“Umm, can I help you?” Arthur asked him as he continued to stand there. 

“Well, with your real servant missing someone will have to do his duties my lord,” he explained. Arthur frowned, he wasn’t comfortable with anyone but Merlin in the room while he dressed. 

“No thank you, I think I’ll do it myself today,” Arthur said, brushing past him and going to his dresser. 

“As you wish, your grace. I’ll be outside the door if you need anything,” he bowed deeply before marching out into the hallway. Arthur changed into something comfortable, in case he was going to do anything else exciting that day, and left to go speak with his father. 

The somber mood of the throne room hit him like a battering ram. The scorned expressions of the court caused his face to fall and his stomach to drop. Uther sat on his throne, rubbing his face in stress. One of the knights in the room held a singed cape. He approached Arthur and gave him the shredded fabric. Arthur ran his fingers over the textured yellow dragon and swallowed, he prayed that the owner had met a better fate. 

“What’s happened?” he asked. 

“Cenred. Early this morning, while our men were scouting for the sorcerers, they came across a fallen patrol. According to a note left by Cenred’s soldiers, they were trespassing on his land, and an example had to be made,” the knight explained. 

“And? How many survived?” One of them must have lived. 

“None, my lord. Edric, Oldoff, Osric, and Sir Leon, they’re all dead.” 

The devastation shook Arthur to his core. This day was supposed to be better than the last, but alas those dreams were already dashed. Edric, Oldoff, and Osric were all fantastic soldiers, and even better men, they would be well missed. Sir Leon, he and Arthur had known each other since they could hold swords. Losing Leon was a kind of pain you felt when you lost a brother. 

“Dammit,” Arthur said, holding back tears because his father was in the room. 

“Action must be taken! Cenred can’t get away with this!” Uther shouted, slamming his fist on his armrest. 

“I want to see Cenred hang for this,” Arthur said. “But retaliating would be an act of war, a war which we cannot afford.” 

“This _was_ an act of war, he instigated so I must respond,” Uther said. Arthur disagreed, but he’d learned long ago when to shut his mouth and do what his father told him. “We’ll meet again tomorrow to discuss strategies. This day is for mourning and the families of the fallen men. You’re all dismissed.” As people began to shuffle out of the throne room, Gaius remained to speak with Arthur. 

“Arthur, where’s Merlin? Where are the wizards? Are they safe?” He whispered. 

“They’re in a cave south of the city, don’t worry, it’s well hidden,” Arthur told him. 

“Good, good. I assume you plan to return to them?” 

“Of course,” Arthur said. “I have to get food and water for them, but I’ll be leaving very soon.” 

“Arthur!” called Uther, completely ignoring that he was speaking to Gaius. 

“Yes father?”

“By any chance, have you seen Morgana at all recently? I haven’t been in contact with her since last night,” Uther said. This alarmed Arthur, where could she have gone after helping them? 

“No, not since last night,” he said. 

“OK then, keep an eye out. I’d like to talk to her,” Uther said. 

Arthur nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now, if you don’t mind father, I have business I must attend to.” 

“Sure.” Uther patted him on the shoulder, and Arthur left to prepare for his departure. 

***********

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_ From the tip of Harry's wand, a corporeal stag sprung into life. It bound into the forest never to be seen again. 

“Wow!” Merlin exclaimed in sheer amazement. “Do you really think I could do _t_ _hat_ without a wand?” 

“You won’t know until you try,” Harry said. That morning, Merlin got curious about learning some of their spells. Ron and Hermione had recommended Harry, “he has real teaching experience!” they’d said. So there he was, trying to show Merlin how to cast a patronus. Ron, Hermione, and Draco were watching near the entrance of the cave. They were all curious to see what animal the Great Merlin would produce. 

“How do I do it?” He asked. 

“When you cast the spell, think of the happiest memory of your life. Use that to give your spell power,” Harry said. Remus Lupin had been much better at explaining it, then again, he’d had a boggart to help him. 

“Sounds easy,” Merlin said. 

“But I’m sure you know that doesn’t mean anything when it comes to magic. It took me three tries to get so much as a non corporeal patronus, and I had a wand,” Harry said. He would be very embarrassed if Merlin got it in one try. “Go on, I’ll give you a minute to think of a memory.” Merlin closed his eyes, and about forty seconds later he was beaming ear to ear. 

“I take it you’ve got it then,” Harry said. 

“Yeah,” Merlin said dreamily. 

“Give it a go.” Harry stepped back, allowing him room. For a brief second he glanced back at Draco, he wondered what his patronus was. 

“ _Expecto Patronum!”_ Merlin shouted, throwing his hand into the air. Nothing happened. “I felt something!” Without waiting for feedback from Harry, he tried again. “ _Expecto Patronum!”_

How fast he’d mastered it was...astounding. Actually being there with him, knowing him, Harry sometimes forgot that they were in the presence of the most powerful wizard of all time. This was _Merlin_ , he didn’t need a wand to produce a patronus. The light streaming from his fingers took form and a fire breathing dragon came to life. It danced around in the air, huffing flames and doing loopty loops, it was beautiful. 

“Amazing,” he heard Hermione say in utter awe. 

“So that was good then?” Merlin asked as the dragon dissipated into the sky. 

“Bloody brilliant is what that was!” Ron exclaimed, walking over and clapping him on the shoulder. Everything came to an abrupt halt when Arthur’s horse appeared from the thicket. 

“What’s brilliant?” He asked, hopping down from his saddle. Had he seen them? What was he going to do if he found out Merlin was a wizard?

“Just, we saw a rabbit,” Hermione blurted. “Cute creatures, aren’t they?” She’d always been rubbish at lying.

“I guess, I prefer them as food though,” Arthur said, eying them suspiciously. 

“Speaking of food, were you able to find the kitchens?” Merlin asked to change the subject. 

“That’s ridiculous Merlin, I know where the kitchens are!” 

“That’s funny, because I’ve never seen you fetch your own meals before. Does this mean I don’t have to get you breakfast anymore?” 

“Ugh, no. The woman running that place is awful. I, the King’s son, had to fight her tooth and nail to get more than stale bread and overripe fruit!”

“So you understand, and you won’t whine to me when you find your meals unsatisfactory anymore?” 

“That's different, Merlin. I am a prince, I have _standards-”_

“Oi! What did ya’ bring?! I’m hungry!” Ron interrupted, doing them all a favor. 

“In that bag on my horse, you’ll find salted pork, almonds, grapes, and fresh bread. There’s some water too.” 

“Wonderful!” replied Ron. He and Harry raced each other to the horse. As they fought each other for the rations, Arthur and Merlin began to speak in whispers. Harry only picked up on a few words. 

“Sir Leon?...Are you sure?...She’s missing?...” 

As they sorted out whatever issues Arthur had uncovered in Camelot, Harry went to sit far away so the two could speak in private. The last thing he wanted to do was go back into the cave, it was awful in there: all hot, and smelly, and stuffy. Harry found a wide tree and sat against the base. He tried to keep his food in his lap so it wouldn’t touch the forest floor. 

His heart jumped as Draco walked towards his tree. Turned out, he was trying to walk past, but their eyes met and Harry flashed him a small but inviting smile. Harry remembered bits and pieces from their night on the town. He remembered the tavern, Draco challenging him to a drinking contest, and running through the streets. That was it. However, when he woke up the morning after with a killer headache and a nasty taste in his mouth, he looked at Draco and felt a sense of relief. He felt like he had let go of everything they’d done to each other, like that forgotten night was a new beginning for them. 

Draco got the memo, and it warmed Harry to see his eyes fill with excitement. Draco started to walk over, but out of nowhere Ron and Hermione took the spaces next to him. Harry was so absorbed in Draco, he wasn’t even sure where they'd come from. 

“I’ve never been so excited to eat something!” Hermione said the moment she sat down. 

“You’re gonna’ love the pork babe,” Ron said with a mouth full of almonds. “My family always keeps some durin’ the winter, tastes just like bacon.” 

Harry felt awful watching the excitement drain from Draco’s eyes. He hadn’t meant to be sandwiched between Ron and Hermione, but the guilt was still there. Because there was no more room, Draco had to go off and find a place to eat alone. Harry wished he could get up, but his food would spill if he did, and it would look weird to his friends. So he remained where he was and popped a grape into his mouth. 

“This is a terrible idea,” Arthur grumbled to Merlin as they walked over. 

“Don’t be so negative, we can trust them,” Merlin said. 

“Talking about us?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, we have something to discuss with you guys. First of all, you weren’t the only ones who broke out of the dungeons last night. Dolohov found a way to escape too,” Arthur said. 

“You’re joking! That entire feast debacle was for nothing?” Harry exclaimed.

“No, I’m afraid I’m not joking. That isn’t the end to it, though,” Arthur said. Draco saw them congregated, and came over to be a part of the conversation. “Sir Leon-” 

“The one who arrested us? What about him?” Draco asked. 

Arthur shot him a stern look. “As I was about to say, this morning he along with his entire patrol were found dead.” 

“That’s horrible!” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, sorry mate they all seemed like good people,” Ron frowned. 

“Indeed they were; for justice, an attack will be planned on the man who had them killed. My father will want me involved in the process, so it may be some time before we can go looking for Dolohov or the Deathly Hallows again,” Arthur revealed. 

“Just because you’re busy, doesn’t mean we can’t go looking on our own,” Ron said. 

“I’m sorry, but as far as I’m concerned, none of you are leaving here until we get back from dealing with these issues. The last time you were completely alone, two of you knocked out Gaius and went drinking. Also, if you aim to track Dolohov, you’ll have to start where he disappeared in the dungeons, a place you’re bound to get spotted. Want the invisibility cloak? Well Dolohov’s attempt to search the castle as Leon means that he thinks it’s in the castle, so you’ll have to go to Camelot to search for that too. Without me or Merlin there to hide you and guide you, everything will be a hot mess, and you’ll be right back where you were yesterday: in a cell. So you will stay here and wait a few days until we’ve avenged our friends!” Arthur said. He was in pain, and he was taking it out on them, that much Harry understood. 

“Relax, Arthur,” Merlin muttered to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

“How long will you be gone?” Draco asked. 

“Hopefully one of us can make it back in two days at the maximum. Things may get hectic, so we can’t make promises,” Arthur said. 

“It’s alright,” Ron said. “We’ve had experience surviving in the wilderness, remember?” 

“How could we forget?” Harry commented. The memories that horcrux had caused him would never escape him. 

“Mmm, alright. I still don’t like this. Arthur, are you sure I can’t stay behind? I see why you need to be there but me? What can I do?” Merlin asked. 

“No, Merlin, you’re coming with. Gaius is worried and your replacement is unbearable. Like I said, we’ll only be gone a couple of days,” Arthur said, he sounded pretty stuck in his position. 

“If you insist,” Merlin sighed. “While we’re gone, if any danger comes that you can’t handle, aparate to Gaius’s chambers. I’ll find you there easily.” They walked over to the horse, where Arthur gave Merlin a hand up before mounting himself. 

“We’ll see you soon,” Arthur said. Harry waved goodbye to them, and with that they were off. 

“This is all so silly,” Draco said. “We’re all eighteen, we could go looking for the elder wand if we wanted.” 

“Yes, but think of how mad Arthur would be if he came back and found that we were gone. Don’t forget, he’s not Merlin, he’s not as trusting towards magic,” Hermione replied. 

“They’ll be back in two days, we have plenty of time to search on our own and get back before they even realize we were gone,” Draco argued. 

“Don’t you listen, Malfoy? Arthur said they’ll be gone for two days maximum, which means they could be back anytime before that. Plus, if we’re kidnapped, killed, or something, they would have no way of finding us!” Ron snapped. 

“Are you saying you want to sit on your arse and do nothing while Dolohov is out making progress? You want to delay going home?” Draco questioned. 

“No,” Hermione said. “But you have to keep in mind that Dolohov is probably as lost as we are. If he tries to go back to Camelot for the Cloak, he’ll be recognized immediately, and I bet he has no idea how to get back to our own time. Who knows, maybe he’s been sidetracked by another problem like us.” 

“Maybe, but I still don’t like being told to sit and stay like we’re dogs,” Draco grumbled. 

“They don’t mean it that way,” Harry said. “They’re only looking out for our safety.” 

With that, he dropped his stubborn demeanor. “I suppose you’re right. Let’s just hope it doesn’t backfire.” And he walked back over to where he’d been before.

“So moody,” Hermione mumbled.

“I know right, why does he have to be so negative all the time?” Ron looked at Harry and furrowed his brow. “I never asked you this, but why did you go to the tavern with him? I mean, he’s bloody Malfoy.” 

This angered Harry, he didn’t feel like he should have to explain, but not answering would look strange. “I don’t know, maybe because he was the only one willing to do something fun that night. I don’t regret it, seeing that we’re stuck in a cave now. And you might be surprised to know that he’s not the embodiment of satan, and it’s OK if I’m able to have a civil conversation with him!” 

“Calm down Harry, it was only a question,” Ron replied. 

“Sorry,” Harry said, although he didn’t mean it. 

“Oh, would you boys quit bickering? Arthur and Merlin have only just left, let’s wait at least an hour before we start fighting,” Hermione chastised. Harry wasn’t sure what happened. One moment they were mad with each other, the next they were on some telekinetic wavelength. They were thinking the exact same thing: let’s mess with Hermione. 

“Fighting?” Harry said. “That wasn’t fighting.” 

“This is fighting!” Ron exclaimed as they began to throw grapes at her. 

“How completely immature of you!” Hermione shrieked, shielding herself from the onslaught. Despite her protests, Harry had never seen her grin wider. 

“Come on Hermione, I feel bad if you don’t fight back!” Harry answered. 

“You asked for it!” She ejaculated. Hermione returned the fire with honorable force. They scrambled to their feet and started to chase each other all over the place. The Grape War lasted for about ten minutes until every last grape had been thrown and lost. The next two days wouldn’t be too bad, Harry decided. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Two days later**

“Get up! Quick!” Arthur hovered above Harry, shaking him out of a wonderful dream he was having. One where he was drinking warm tea, on the verge of a nap, in the arms of a faceless person who smelled like apples. He woke up smiling, but his happiness didn’t last for long. Across the forest floor, Merlin was trying to wake Draco as well. Ron and Hermione were already up and about. They were all in a hurry. 

“What’s this about?” Harry yawned. 

“We’ll explain later, now move,” Arthur ordered. He was a bit disheveled, and his eyes were all over the place like he thought someone could be watching them. Harry was too tired to ask questions, so he followed instructions and rose to his feet. 

“We tethered your horses to ours. Mount up so we can get going, we can’t waste time,” Arthur said. Everything was a confusing blur. Harry was drowsy, making it that much harder to wrap his head around everything going on. He and Draco exchanged perplexed looks before they were guided towards their horses. They were shoved into their saddles, and without a word of explanation, they left the cave. It all happened under a minute. 

“Where are we going? What’s happening?” Ron asked. 

“I cannot disclose where we are going, if I did I would have to kill you. As for what’s happening, something very serious has come up, and the King has instructed me to take care of. We’ve retrieved you because your magic may be useful, and because we cannot leave you for such a length of time,” Arthur explained. 

“Really? What came up that’s more important than stopping Dolohov?” Draco asked. 

“The Cup of Life’s been found,” Merlin blurted from the end of the line. 

“Merlin! I told you not to tell them!” Arthur shouted. Merlin knew as well as any of them he wouldn’t face repercussions. 

“I thought they should know what we’re after. They’re trustworthy,” Merlin said. 

“Hold on,” said Harry. “What’s the Cup of Life?” Arthur opened his mouth to explain, but Merlin cut him off. 

“It’s an enchanted goblet that can grant a man life, or turn an entire army immortal. If it lands in the wrong hands it could be disastrous,” Merlin said. 

“How’d you know that, Merlin?” questioned Arthur. 

“Gaius told me,” Merlin replied. 

“Normally I’d advise you not to listen to Gaius’s fairytales, but in this case he’s right. The Cup of Life is very dangerous, it belongs in Camelot,” Arthur said assuredly. 

“Debatable…” 

“Merlin,” Arthur warned.

“How did you find out about all of this?” Hermione asked. 

“Sir Leon, he was revived with the Cup of Life by druids,” Merlin revealed. 

“Merlin, quit telling them things they aren’t allowed to know!” Arthur exclaimed, but Harry had a feeling Merlin wasn’t going to listen. 

“So we’re going to see the druids again? Are we going back to the Forest of Balor?” He wondered. He didn’t want to meet druids again. They creeped him out, what with their ability to speak directly into his brain, see the future, force him to live his deepest regrets and realize long suppressed feelings.

“No-no,” Arthur cussed under his breath. “I’m done answering questions, you already know too much.” Harry glanced over his shoulder, locked eyes with Draco and they rolled their eyes at Arthur in unison. Harry smiled shyly to himself. His moment of bashfulness was brought to a halt the second Arthur decided they needed to gallop. The bumpiness distracted Harry from every emotion but heart wrenching anxiety. 

They rode at this brutal pace to the edge of the woods, through a wide stretch of plains, and to another forest. When they got there, Arthur slowed down and began to keep a more watchful eye on their surroundings. Now that they weren’t going so fast, they could talk again. Merlin cantered to the front of the line to ride alongside Arthur. 

“We’re going to Cenred’s Kingdom, aren’t we?” Merlin asked him. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“We’re in the Forest of Ascetir. We’re not stopping,” he pointed out. 

“You can think what you like, Merlin,” Arthur replied, but his tone made it clear that Cenred’s Kingdom was exactly where they were headed. 

“Come on,” Merlin whispered, leaning in so Harry nor the others could hear. He failed. “You might as well tell me.” 

“Then I’d have to kill you. I told you that,” Arthur said. That was quite an overreaction, Harry thought. 

Merlin, who knew the Prince was merely bluffing, kept at it. “Go ahead. I’m probably going to die anyways. Look at what happened to the patrol that came here. Dead, the lot of them.” 

“Sir Leon survived,” Arthur reminded him. 

“But that makes it, like a 1 in 40 chance,” Hermione interjected. 

“Sounds like our chances are low. I’m definitely going to die,” Merlin said. 

“Always the pessimist Merlin,” Arthur said. “Who knows? Maybe just this once, we’ll have no trouble.” Merlin began to say something, but Harry didn’t hear. There was a sharp pain in his neck, and everything went black. 

\------------------------

Harry wasn’t sure where he woke up. He heard Ron groaning beside him, he smelled straw, and he was sitting against a wall. As he adjusted to his surroundings, he began to panic. Every strange man looking at him was terrifying, and the dark pit they were in was inescapable. 

“Harry, where are we?” Ron mumbled. 

“Who knows,” Harry whispered back. Hermione shoved through the crowd of men and helped them up. 

“You’re finally awake. Poor Merlin’s still out cold,” she said. 

“Arthur and Malfoy?” Harry asked, beginning to panic when he couldn’t see platinum blonde hair in the sea of heads. 

“Arthur is watching over Merlin, and Malfoy is here, but I left him,” Hermione said, as if Harry wasn’t aggravated enough. He shook his head at her, and without a word, stormed away to find Draco so he wouldn’t be alone in this pit of cutthroats. He found Draco near Arthur. 

He tapped his bicep and asked, “What’s happening?” 

“Not much. Arthur and some acquaintances he’s made are waiting for Merlin to wake,” Draco explained. He glanced over at Harry and his brow furrowed with concern. With his pointer finger, he grazed the spot where the dart had hit Harry. 

“Nasty bit of business, those tranquilizers,” Draco said. Harry couldn’t respond, his throat was dry from the way Draco had touched his neck. 

“Uh, you’re not looking great either,” he said as heat crawled up his face. It was true. There was an intense red mark on Draco’s skin. His paleness made it look ten times worse than it was. They were distracted when Arthur knelt down and patted Merlin in the face, rousing him out of unconsciousness. 

“What was that you were saying about me being a pessimist?” Was the first thing out of Merlin’s mouth. 

“Must have slipped my mind,” Arthur retorted as he bent over to lift him up. As Merlin adjusted to standing, somebody shoved themselves through the horde to greet them. He was tall, with chocolate hair, a cocky smile, and a handsome face. He grasped Arthur’s shoulder, sending him into attack mode. 

“Touch me again, you die,” Arthur warned, but the man was unphased by his threat. 

Merlin was much happier to see him. “Gwaine?!” 

“No manners, you royals,” he said to Arthur. “Merlin, old friend, you look terrible.”

“Likewise!” Merlin jested. So they knew this Gwaine, and the grin on Merlin’s face told Harry he was a friend. That was a little comforting. 

“They mentioned a Gwaine before,” Draco noted. “After they returned from their failed hunt for Dolohov.” 

“Must be the same guy, not many men named Gwaine."

“Not in our time at least.” 

“What are you doing here?” Arthur asked Gwaine. 

“You know,” Gwaine sighed. “Wrong place, wrong time, wrong drink.” It wasn’t much of an explanation to Harry. 

“Like always then? Can’t leave you alone for a few days without you getting into trouble,” Arthur teased. 

“That’s just unfair.” So far, Harry liked this man. He seemed about, but he’d never spoken to him, so how could he tell?

“Where exactly are we?” Arthur asked. 

“In the bowels of an old castle,” Gwaine explained. “Belongs to a fellow named Jarl.” Harry snorted, the name sounded like it belonged to a villain out of a bad fantasy novel. Then again, Harry's life was like a bad fantasy novel, so it shouldn’t have surprised him. 

“Never heard of him,” Arthur said. 

“Lovely bloke,” Gwaine joked. “Slave trader.” 

Merlin, reasonably, was alarmed by this. “We’re going to be sold as slaves?” He questioned. Gwaine never answered, he didn’t get the chance. A filthy looking man dressed in black furs appeared on a ledge overlooking the pit. 

“Right, you filthy vermin,” he said. Harry had a gut feeling this was Jarl, he was evil looking enough. “Which one of you is ready to face my champion in the arena?” A million thoughts began to race through Harry’s head. Why were they being made to do gladiator fights if they were slaves? Who was this champion he spoke of? There was a brief moment of silence. Jarl decided it was taking too long. “No volunteers? Well, I shall have to choose one of you toerags myself.” 

Toerags? Surely he could come up with a better insult. “Let me see…” he said, scanning the pit for a worthy fighter. He caught a glimpse of Merlin, who to the unaware eye, would look like the weakest man there. Jarl wasn’t looking for a fair fight, he was looking for a slaughter. “How about you?” Jarl said, pointing to Merlin. Merlin looked around to see if he had pointed to someone else, but it was clear he hadn’t.

“Me?” 

“Death or glory, boy? You should be honored.” Jarl said, like there was any honor in what he was doing. 

Arthur was the one to speak up. “Who is this so-called champion?” He asked. “Can he crush nothing but weaklings like this?” An insult it was, but it was going to get Merlin off the hook. 

“You think you could offer a better contest?” Jarl questioned. 

“I guarantee it,” Arthur declared. 

In the background, Gwaine had something to say. “Arthur, no,” he tried to warn, but he was ignored. 

“Very well,” said Jarl. “But if you lose, I’ll feed your little friend to the crows piece by stinking piece.” The weight of the wager set in on Arthur’s face. Harry had seen how protective he was over Merlin, this fight was going to be nail biting. “Are you ready, my champion?” 

“I am.”

The champion was Gwaine. 

\---------------

Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione were brought to the “Arena” one by one. After realizing they too had been traveling with Arthur, Jarl decided to subject them to watching the fight. Harry was hesitant to call it an arena, it was more like a large room with lots of space for two men to swordfight. Nothing like the Colosseum, or Wembley. After they were put in cuffs and forced to wait for minutes, Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine arrived. Merlin was restrained by armed men, and the other two were tossed into a circle surrounded by rowdy spectators. 

Jarl stood from his crappy excuse for a throne, and hushed the room with his voice. “Gentlemen, the rules are simple. One man lives and one man dies. If you cannot, or will not finish off your opponent, I’ll kill you both.” Disgust and anxiety danced around Harry’s stomach. People were cheering, _cheering_ as Jarl explained this twisted game. How anybody could ever find such sport entertaining was beyond him.

Jarl tossed two swords at Gwaine’s and Arthur’s feet. They slowly picked up their weapons as they exchanged sorrowful looks. Harry tried to imagine what it would feel like to be forced to kill Ron in order to save Hermione, or Hermione in order to save Ron. He couldn’t. The pain was unfathomable. He hoped that Arthur had a way out of this. 

Gwaine was the first to attack. He swung his sword at Arthur’s stomach and missed, Arthur dodged quickly. From there on out, it was all too fast and confusing for Harry to keep up. He understood wizarding duels, but sword fights were a mess. They were noisy, and flashy, and unpredictable. Something would elicit an impressed gasp from the crowd while Harry was still trying to figure out who had swung at who. Movies made duels like this so much easier to follow, they added music and edits to make the fight seem epic, but in reality they were stressful. Harry was too busy worrying about their lives to appreciate the awesomeness of a medieval sword fight. In the midst of the chaos, Arthur and Gwaine managed to lose their swords. They fell to the ground and began wrestling with each other as Jarl and his men watched with animalistic bloodlust.

Out of the blue, a massive burst of flames erupted from a torch on the wall. The flames spread so far that even Harry could feel his eyebrows begin to singe. The ropes that dangled from the ceiling were lit ablaze, sending the entire room into a frenzy. It was every last man for himself. People were shoved, and pulled, and trampled in order to escape the fire. Rubble began to fall from the ceiling, it was only a matter of time before they were buried or burned to death. Nobody was paying attention to Merlin, Gwaine, or Arthur anymore. 

Merlin dashed over to them and used magic to release them from their handcuffs. “Come on! We have to move now!” He shouted. They sprinted with Gwaine and Arthur out the nearest exit. From there, they ran from the ruins so fast that Harry’s legs burned and his lungs were starved for oxygen. They didn’t slow until they were far, far from the castle and deep in the forest. The place they’d escaped wasn’t able to be seen, that’s how far they’d run. 

As they wheezed and gasped for air, only Merlin could manage to say something. “I...think...we’re...in...Cenred’s...kingdom...now…” He panted. Harry knew this was merely the beginning. They were in for a wild ride. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, sorry this is a day late. Not gonna lie, I just totally forgot to upload yesterday. So here's the next chapter.

Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so winded. As they recuperated, still attempting to catch their breaths, Gwaine spoke up. “Well, that’s somewhere I’ll not be in a hurry to see again.” 

“Best stay out of trouble then,” Arthur rasped. 

“I could say the same to you,” quipped Gwaine. 

“You could but I wouldn’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh come on,” Gwaine said. “You must have done something to end up in a hole like that. And who are your companions? Vagabonds I presume.” 

“They’re friends of ours. This is Hermione, Ron, Draco, and Harry, we’ve brought them on a quest,” Arthur explained. They were doubled over, none of them could even wave at Gwaine. 

“We’re looking for the Cup of Life,” Merlin blurted, yet again revealing the one thing no one was supposed to know. Stark annoyance filled Arthur’s eyes. 

“What part of the word “secret” do you not understand?” He exclaimed. 

“It’s Gwaine,” Merlin replied, causing Arthur to become more exasperated. Harry could sense some tension between Gwaine and Arthur. They seemed like they didn’t get along, Harry wondered what the history was. 

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, it seems whatever it is that you’re after, you could use a little help,” Gwaine offered. Arthur seemed hesitant, but in the end, he nodded in agreement. 

“That’s settled,” Ron said. “We should probably get a move on if we don’t want that creep to find us again.” 

“Fair point. Come on, I’ll take the lead,” Arthur said, like he would’ve let anyone else be in front. As they continued on through the dense woods, Hermione ended up walking alongside Harry. She stared at Gwaine like he was the first human she’d ever seen. 

“Can you believe it?” She whispered to Harry. 

“Believe what?” He asked. 

“Do you really not know? Harry, we’re in the presence of Sir Gwaine, a Knight of the Round Table! Why am I the only one excited by this?” She said. A Knight of the Round table? No offense to him, but Gwaine didn’t seem very knightly. 

“I think you’re the only one who knows. But now that you say so, it’s pretty cool,” Harry said. 

“Pretty cool? For god's sake Harold,” she sighed in disappointment. 

“So according to Merlin here,” Gwaine said, drowning out their conversation. “If you tell me where this cup is you’ll have to kill me.” 

“That’s correct,” Arthur stated. 

“May as well tell me then. I mean let’s be honest. You couldn’t kill me even if you wanted to,” Gwaine taunted. Harry’s jaw dropped, he and Hermione exchanged amused looks. He felt like laughing, but kept his mouth shut. It was like in school when someone spoke back to the teacher. Hilarious, but you didn’t want to risk getting in trouble. 

“Yeah?” Arthur said, even from the back of his head, Harry could tell he was offended. “Try me.” 

“I already did,” said Gwaine. “Back in the Arena. I had you banged to rights, did I not?” 

“That was just a game,” Arthur huffed. 

“Oh a game? I won that game did I not?” Now, Harry understood why they might have trouble getting along. Gwaine was willing to challenge Arthur’s pride like no one else, except Merlin. But Merlin, for some reason, got a pass. 

“No, you didn’t. One more minute-” Arthur stopped walking to stare Gwaine down and have a fight of egos. Merlin, fortunately, kept it from going too far. 

“One more minute and you both would have been dead. Neither of you won! Your plan was a half-baked disaster, and if it was not for that fire, we would all be pushing up daisies,” he said, spitting facts. Arthur and Gwaine couldn’t argue with that, so they stood in dumbfounded silence as Merlin pushed between them and led the way. 

They continued on, and Gwaine fell back to walk alongside Harry and Hermione. Her eyes were shining with admiration. “So, how do you know Merlin and Arthur? You don’t look like you’re from around here.” 

“It’s a long story,” Harry said. He had no idea how much they’d told him before. He didn’t want to reveal stuff Merlin and Arthur wouldn’t want him to know. 

“Say, are you involved with that sorcerer they were looking for?” He asked. 

“Uh, yeah,” Harry said. There was no point in lying. 

“What ever happened with that?” Gwaine asked. 

“To keep it short, Merlin got stabbed, we got arrested, and Dolohov escaped from prison,” Harry explained. 

“He’s a slippery bastard, isn’t he? Well, you’re in good company. Let’s hope the rest of this journey is smooth sailing,” he said. 

“You’re very handsome,” Hermione blurted. At first, she didn’t realize she’d said it aloud, but reality hit her and she turned crimson red. 

“Ha! Thank you, I’m flattered!” 

That was when Ron decided to interject himself into the conversation. “What’s goin’ on here?” He asked, wrapping a possessive arm around Hermione. 

“Nothing to worry about. Just conversation,” Gwaine said. 

“Alright,” Ron said, but he seemed skeptical of Gwaine for the rest of the walk. To be fair to him, Hermione spent the entire time asking Gwaine questions about his life. She was fascinated by him, it was clear in her eyes. However, as they got to know Gwaine, Harry was less and less impressed. Maybe he would be a knight one day, but he was also an alcoholic who got into way too many bar fights. He was a hot mess. 

After a long while of walking, they came upon a cave. It was well hidden, it’s entrance was grassy and blended with the ground. 

“Well,” Merlin said to Arthur. “Don’t tell me we’re actually here.” 

“Easy Merlin. Wouldn’t want to rile the Prince.” Gwaine replied. They shared grins, but Arthur ignored them in favor of entering the cave. 

“You four.” He pointed to them before entering the cave. “Wait out here. We’ll be back soon.” 

“Oh come on!” Harry exclaimed in irritation. Why did they have to sit out of everything? Arthur pretended like he couldn’t hear his laments, and they ventured into the cave without another word. 

“This is insulting,” Draco complained. 

“I know, they brought us all this way only to leave us out?” Harry agreed. 

“At least you got to see the druids before,” Ron said. 

“Who says you can’t now? Maybe we could sneak in behind them, if we leave in time they won’t know,” Harry suggested. He didn't like the druids, but he'd like to see what was going on.

“Harry no! We need to do as we’re told!” Hermione insisted. 

“Why?” Draco questioned. “They don’t have any authority over us. They’re not our professors or anything.” 

“Arthur is a Prince, and we’re in his world, which means he’s in charge whether we like it or not,” Hermione said. 

“Always a stickler for the rules Hermione,” Harry said. “You can stay out here, but I’m going in.” He walked towards the entrance, Draco and Ron followed after him. 

“I can’t believe this,” Hermione muttered in pure disbelief. “Fine, I’m coming. But only so I’m not alone out here.” 

They tiptoed through the dark tunnels, hoping they wouldn’t bump into Arthur and get in trouble. That was never a problem. They came across a large, open cavern decorated with colorful ribbons and dim candles. In the center, Merlin, Gwaine, and Arthur, stood with their backs to them, however they weren’t the only people in the cave. They were surrounded by hooded figures. Harry and his friends ducked behind a large rock, and peered over the top to see what was happening. 

One of the hooded men stood in front of Arthur, his eyes filled with worry. Harry honed in mid conversation. “You seek the Cup of Life, do you not?” The head druid said to Arthur. 

“I do,” Arthur stated. 

“It is yours,” the druid said. Without hesitation, he held out a silver goblet. Harry couldn’t believe it. He was just giving the Cup of Life away? No catch? This was too easy. “Please now, the boy.” He requested. Harry was shocked when Arthur lowered his sword and cautiously exchanged a child for the Cup. From where he sat, he couldn’t see the kid. No wonder the druid looked so distressed. Arthur wrapped his hand around the chalice, but the druid did not let go. 

“You meddle with a power you do not understand, Arthur Pendragon,” the druid warned. “By taking the Cup of Life, you risk more than you know.” 

“Uh oh, vague answers like that are never good,” Ron commented. 

Arthur took the Cup, and replied. “I’ll take my chances, thanks. Let’s go.” 

“That’s our cue to leave! Hurry!” Hermione yanked them away and they scurried back to the surface. 

“I thought it would have taken more to get the Cup, you know since it’s so dangerous,” Ron said. 

“It seemed like the druids wanted to be rid of it. That  _ can’t  _ be a good sign,” said Hermione. After she said it, Arthur and Gwaine emerged from the cave. Arthur held the Cup of Life in his hand, gazing at it with curiosity and wonder. 

“Is that it?” Harry asked. 

“Yep, the Cup of Life in the flesh. I thought it’d be shinier,” Gwaine said. 

“Don’t let its looks deceive you,” Merlin said, coming from the cave. “I’m wondering if it would have been safer with the druids.” 

“They can’t be trusted, Merlin,” Arthur said. “No one can. The only safe place for the Cup is in the vaults of Camelot.” 

“We have to get it there first,” Merlin mumbled so quietly only Harry could hear. 

“Alright,” said Arthur, oblivious to Merlin’s remark. “Let us continue home. My father will be thrilled to have such a treasure.” 

They ventured deep into the forest. Arthur put the Cup in a satchel, and for the most part, they walked in silence. Harry started to notice a pattern whenever they had long distances to walk. Arthur and Merlin would walk side by side, either in comfortable silence or playfully bickering. Ron and Hermione would hold hands, leaving Harry and Draco to entertain themselves. They walked side by side, whenever their sleeves so much as brushed together, Harry’s stomach did a somersault. 

Gwaine was with them, though, meaning that any conversation was often interrupted by loud, random thoughts one might have in the shower. 

“If he keeps talking so loud he’s going to get us killed,” Draco said to Harry after Gwaine told some story about rabid dogs. 

“I heard that,” Gwaine said. He took this as an invitation to come over and insert himself between them. Draco scowled. “Aren’t you a sourpus,” Gwaine said. Harry laughed so loud he got a warning glare from Arthur. 

“You have no idea,” Harry said. “You’ve never seen him lose a quidditch game.” 

“Shut up Potter!” Draco snapped. 

“Am I wrong?” 

His silence was telling. 

“Quidditch? I’ve never heard of such a game,” Gwaine said. 

“Oh, the rules are quite confusing. In fact, it doesn’t make much since all together, but it’s a blast to play,” Harry said. 

“Even if you’re only the second best Seeker in the school,” Malfoy said, thinking he was so sly. 

“Yeah? And what’s that like, Draco?” Harry quipped. It brought him such joy to poke fun at Draco like that. 

“Oh you little-” 

“Quiet!” Arthur hissed. “Listen!” 

“I don’t hear anything,” Merlin said. 

“Exactly,” Arthur replied. He was right. No birds sang, the wind was still, and if the trees could breathe they’d be holding their breath. 

"Never satisfied, you city types,” Gwaine said. “It’s too noisy, it’s too quiet…” He was cut off when numerous soldiers lept out of the trees in ambush. 

“Run!” screamed Arthur, and they all dispersed into the woods. Harry, Gwaine, and Draco were being chased by seven soldiers. Harry was hesitant to use his magic. He didn’t know Gwaine’s stance on magic, and after what had happened with Sir Leon, he didn’t want to put Draco or himself in danger. Somehow, the men caught up to them and they had to stop running and fight. After sharing brief eye contact, Harry knew that Draco was also unsure about revealing their magic to Gwaine. 

“Go!” Gwaine shouted, under the impression they were helpless teenagers. “I can handle them!” 

“No, you’ll get yourself killed!” Harry shouted, but it wasn’t enough. Gwaine tried to face them all, but he was soon overwhelmed by their numbers. Harry didn’t have to check with Draco to know when to step in. He shot a burst of magic at one of Cenred’s men, flinging him hard against a tree. Once they decided to help Gwaine, it was a quick match. 

“This is just unfair!” Gwaine laughed after Draco blasted a soldier with Confringo. 

“That’s the joy of it!” He replied. It took no time to rid themselves of Cenred’s men. When the bodies littered the ground, they made a dash to find the others. 

“There you are!” Ron exclaimed once they ran into him and Hermione on the main road. “We were lookin’ all over for you! Managed to escape the guys after us, but I don’t know about Arthur and Merlin.” 

“Let’s find them then, Arthur might need my help,” Gwaine said. 

“There,” Harry said, pointing to the ground. “Footprints, they went this way.” 

“Then stop standing around and follow them,” Draco said. Harry would have loved to snap back, but there was no time. They ran as fast as they could, hoping not to bump into any more soldiers. Luck was on their side, not only were they not attacked, but the footprints lead them straight to Arthur, who was unconscious and shivering on the forest floor. Merlin was nowhere to be seen.

“Arthur!” Gwaine exclaimed, dropping beside his friend. There was an arrow sticking out of his leg. The Prince gave no indication that he could hear Gwaine. 

“Oh no,” Gwaine muttered. “Merlin!” He called with hope he was in earshot. 

“Do you think the arrow was poisoned? He’s pale, and shivering,” Hermione noted. 

“Perhaps, but I’m no medicine woman, Merlin will have a better chance at telling,” Gwaine said. 

“Hold on,” said Ron. “Where’s the Cup? It’s missing.” Right on cue, Merlin came running up, babbling about what had happened. 

“The Cup of Life! Cenred’s men have it! I tried but I couldn’t stop them!” He panted. 

“Well, there’s not much we can do about it now. We should try to heal him,” Gwaine said. 

“Agreed, he looks poisoned,” Merlin replied. He knelt beside Arthur and stroked his forehead. “He’s cold, sweaty. Gwaine, help me carry him somewhere hidden.” Gwaine nodded. He took Arthur’s feet, while Merlin hooked his arms under Arthur’s shoulders. They struggled to lug him somewhere safe enough. Harry wished he could help somehow, but this was a moment where too many hands would cause problems, so he kept his distance. They went deep into the forest, and found a grove of bushes Merlin decided was hidden enough. 

They laid him down and Merlin immediately got to work. He pulled the arrow out and examined the wound. Just looking at it, Harry felt squeamish. He turned his back and listened as they tried to figure out what to do. 

“You, sorcerers,” Gwaine said. “Is there a spell you know that might heal him?” 

“I do,” Draco said with hesitation. Harry couldn’t see him, but he could feel his eyes flicker in his direction. 

“Go ahead, please.” Gwaine stepped away from Arthur and allowed Draco to take his place. 

“ _ Vulnera Sanentur,”  _ he said, causing Harry’s breath to stop. He glanced over his shoulder and found that Draco was looking at him again. In that one shared look, Harry knew they were both thinking of the same thing, the same moment. Regret twisted Harry’s gut. He hated knowing why Draco knew that spell. He hated being the reason. 

“Is it working?” Merlin asked. 

Draco sighed heavily. “No. Which is odd, I did it right.” 

“Don’t be so cocky Malfoy,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. 

“Would you like to try Weasley?” Draco answered with venom in his voice.

“I’ll do it better than you, that’s for sure,” Ron spat, shoving him aside. He cast a completely different spell than Draco, but his didn’t work either. 

“ _ Don’t be so cocky Weasley,”  _ Draco mimicked. Ron was bright red with humiliation and anger, but he kept his mouth shut and stepped away from Arthur in defeat. 

Harry lost track of how long they tried to heal Arthur, and how many times they failed. But it was clear, they couldn’t do a thing to help. The sun began to set, and they had to give up. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said looking at Merlin. “We’ve tried every spell we know, we can’t heal him.” 

Merlin bit his nails and he gazed at Arthur with frantic eyes. “No, no, it’s alright, it’s not your fault. We should uh, settle in for the night. We can’t travel in that dark.” 

“Who knows,” Gwaine said. “Maybe more traditional methods will get the job done. Merlin, as the physician’s apprentice I nominate you to watch over Arthur and bandage him while we get camp set up.” Merlin seemed contempt with that arrangement. He retrieved some gauze, and began to work on his leg. 

\--------------

It was pitch black out. The only people supposed to be awake were Gwaine and Merlin, to keep watch for bandits and for someone to be up if Arthur awoke. Harry, however, couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, something on the ground was poking him and he too was worried about Arthur’s wellbeing to sleep. It didn’t help that Draco was only a few feet away either. Everytime Harry would roll on his side, he’d get a face full of blonde hair and lose track of time. For this reason, he avoided facing Draco, but sometimes he’d get so stiff he couldn’t help it. This cycle repeated itself until he turned over and saw sleepy blue eyes.

“Can’t sleep either?” Draco whispered. He was just close enough that Harry could make out the details of his face. Without his glasses, everything farther than Draco was blurry. He didn’t mind. 

“No,” Harry replied. It was quiet for a moment. Draco studied Harry’s face closely, and a tiny grin appeared on his lips. Harry didn’t realize what he’d said that was so amusing, but his stomach fluttered and he gave an exhausted smile back. “What?” He asked. 

“Nothing, it’s just...I’ve never seen you without glasses before. Not when your face hasn’t been completely bloated, at least,” he said. 

“Well surely I don’t look that terrible without them,” Harry said. Draco laughed, only to shake his head no. Harry was baffled, whether Draco knew it or not, he’d just complimented his looks. The rush of excitement was enough to make Harry wide awake. He bit his lip, lucky that the night hid his blushing cheeks. The nerves didn’t last long. He stared into Draco Malfoy’s drowsy eyes, and everything felt so comfortable. It felt like returning to the Gryffindor Common Room after a long day, kicking off his tight shoes, sinking onto a sofa in front of the fire and letting the burdens of the world be lifted off his shoulders. Or perhaps, putting in the last piece of a difficult puzzle. Who would have thought it would be him to make Harry feel this way. 

“Hey,” Harry said. “I wanted to ask this earlier, but I never got the chance.”

“Go ahead.”

“When we were teaching Merlin  _ expecto patronum _ , I got to thinking, I know Ron’s, Hermione’s, and now Merlin’s. I’m curious, what about you, Draco? What’s your patronus?” Seeing his smile fade hurt. Harry hadn’t meant for that to happen. 

“I...don’t know.”

“Oh. Have you never tried?” 

“No, I have. After I learned that everyone in Dumbledore’s Army had managed to produce one, I tried myself. I practiced for days, but I only managed a weak non-corporeal form.”

“Really? Why do you think that is?” 

“It’s simple. I don’t have a happy enough memory.” 

Harry’s heart sank. He wished he’d never asked. “Oh Draco, I’m sorry, I didn’t me-” 

“It’s okay Harry,” he interrupted. “I just have to hope I never get on the bad side of a dementor.” 

“You certainly don’t want that,” said Harry, shivering at the thought of the things. 

“Who knows,” Draco said. “Maybe someday, I’ll have something good enough.” 

“Hopefully.” 

All of a sudden, Gwaine got to his feet and shuffled towards them. “Shouldn’t you boys be asleep? We have a long day ahead of us.” 

“Sorry Gwaine. The ground is very uncomfortable,” Harry responded. 

He chuckled and said, “No worries, I’m only joking. But I do recommend getting some shut eye, you never know what tomorrow brings.” 

“You’re one to talk. You’re wide awake and going on a walk through the forest,” Draco said. 

“Calm down sourpus. Merlin has requested I gather firewood, that’s all.” He walked away, and Harry couldn’t contain his snickering. He had a feeling “sourpus” was going to stick.

“Be quiet Potter,” Draco hissed. 

“Alright, sourpus. We should try sleeping like he suggested,” Harry said with a smirk. Draco rolled his eyes and said nothing before rolling away from Harry. After a minute, Harry worked up some courage. “Goodnight, Draco,” he said. 

“Goodnight, Harry,” he yawned. This time, Harry drifted away with ease. 


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Harry woke up with his hand in the dirt. He was flat on his stomach, and his arm was outstretched towards Draco as far as it could go. To his surprise, Draco was in the exact same position, only he was still fast asleep. Harry pulled his hand away and wiped it on his pants. It was then, as he watched Draco’s sleeping face and imagined waking up next to him like this ages into the future, that Harry realized he wasn’t getting over this like he’d hoped. He wondered if that wasn’t such a bad thing. 

“Where’s the Cup?”

Out of nowhere, Arthur was up and awake, looking everywhere for the Cup of Life. “Where’s the Cup?!” His loud exclamation caused Draco’s eyes to flutter open. Harry shot up so he wouldn’t be caught staring. 

“Cenred’s men, they took it,” Merlin grumbled. 

“Then what are we doing here?” Arthur asked with strong annoyance. 

“You were unconscious,” Merlin informed him. Arthur rolled his eyes, he seemed displeased with the explanation.

“Always an excuse Merlin,” he chastised. He attempted to scramble to his feet, but the second he put weight on his injured leg, he groaned in pain and had to catch himself before tumbling over. Gwaine and Merlin rushed over to help. “We have to get to Camelot before it’s too late,” he said as he clutched onto Merlin for balance. 

Harry got to his feet and gawked at Arthur. He thought for sure the poison would have killed him over night. “I don’t understand,” he said. “How come you’re so healed?” Merlin’s face flashed with panic. 

“He’s better, isn’t he? Maybe we shouldn’t dwell on it,” he said, and Harry understood. Sometime that night, Merlin had healed him with special magic. Harry nodded and kept his mouth shut. 

“Sure. I’ll wake Ron and Hermione so we can be on our way.” 

Their departure was quick. Arthur was the most eager out of everyone to leave, despite him walking with a limp. He tried his best to keep up with them as they traveled, but every now and then he needed Merlin to lean on so he could push through the pain and keep walking. Still, he kept them from moving at an efficient rate. 

It took them a night and day to reach the nearest town. When they did, they were in for a nasty surprise. An entire town had been ransacked and burned. The smoke clouded the blue sky, and the smell of burning wood wafted through the air to the hill they stood on. 

“Oh no,” Hermione said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“What the hell happened?” Gwaine inquired. 

“I don’t know,” Arthur said, sounding defeated. “We need to hurry, we’re still a day's march from Camelot.” There was nothing he, or anybody, could do at this point. Moving on was the best option. So they continued past the burning town, and about halfway to Camelot, they stumbled upon an even worse scene. A handful of patrolmen laid dead on the ground. Harry found himself having to watch his footing so he wouldn’t step in blood. Arthur knelt beside a body, his eyes filled with sadness. 

“A Camelot patrol,” he said. 

“There’s not a single enemy body,” Merlin noted, dejected at the sight. 

“He’s right,” Arthur said. “This wasn’t a fight, this was a slaughter.” 

“Who could have done such a thing?” Gwaine asked. They pondered the question for a few moments, until Arthur said what they were all thinking. 

“An army of men that cannot die.” He and Merlin exchanged sullen eye contact. Arthur let out a deep sigh. “Come on.”

The path to Camelot was littered with fallen knights and burning carriages. Whenever there was a clearing, the gloomy image of the smoking castle loomed over them. The closer they got to the city, the more Harry wanted to turn back and run from whatever had done this. They seemed to be walking towards certain death. 

At long last, they arrived at the gates of the city. What they saw; it was not Camelot, it was a nightmare. The streets were littered with abandoned possessions, torches, and even more bodies. It was too much. He couldn’t take another step. 

“Hey,” Draco said after watching him freeze. “What’s the matter?” He asked. 

“I-I feel like we’ve been taken back to the Battle of Hogwarts. All this carnage, all this death, I never wanted to experience such a thing again,” Harry choked, doing his best to hold back tears.

Draco took a second look at the street, and his eyes grew sad. “It is a bit like that, isn’t it? That just means you’re going to save the day again.” He said in an attempt to make him feel better. It helped, but Harry could tell Draco knew he wasn’t convinced. “But between us, I am the better wizard, so maybe I should walk beside you in case something comes along that you can’t handle.” It was impossible for Harry to hide his smile. He didn’t even argue about the false “better wizard” statement. 

They trailed a distance behind the others. If Ron or Hermione saw them walking so close together, Harry was sure they would chastise him again. They were brought to a small house near the marketplace. Harry didn’t recognize it, but they must have been there for a reason, so he kept quiet. Arthur attempted to kick down the door because it was locked, but his bad leg prevented him. 

“Let me,” Gwaine said. It flung open with one good kick. One by one, they crammed themselves into the tiny house. It was dark. So dark that the glint of Gwaine’s sword was the only thing Harry could clearly see. 

“Gwen?” Merlin whispered. There was no response, only quiet rustling behind a paper thin divider. Harry held his breath, terrified whoever lurked in the darkness could hear him. 

“AHHH!” A hooded figure leapt out of hiding, his sword held high. Draco was so startled, so scared that he grasped Harry’s wrist and didn’t let go. Harry didn’t make him either. 

The man’s sword collided with Arthur’s, but Merlin seemed to recognize him. “Elyan?!” Elyan glanced around with wild eyes. He seemed as frightened as they were. But after seeing Merlin and Arthur, his shoulders relaxed and he let his guard down. 

“I’m sorry,” he huffed. They lowered their swords, and Elyan examined Harry and the others with curious eyes. Merlin shut the door so they could speak in private. 

“Where is everyone?” Arthur asked him. 

“I-I-I thought that--” he stammered. 

“Elyan, please, what happened?” Arthur urged. 

“They came out of nowhere, a mighty army. Weapons were useless against them. They were men, sire, but not men. Nothing could kill them, nothing,” he explained. Arthur looked to Merlin, and then back to Elyan. 

“Where’s your sister?” He asked. “Where’s Gueneviere?” 

So this was Gwen’s brother. Were they in Gwen’s house? Harry decided it wasn’t important. Elyan’s face fell. “She was in the citadel when they attacked,” he said in a glum tone. 

“There’s still hope then,” said Hermione. 

“No,” Elyan said. “I’m afraid the citadel’s been taken.” 

A gloomy cloud of silence hung over the room. With Camelot taken, not only were many lives at stake, but finding and stopping Dolohov was for sure on the side burner. Home was getting farther and farther away. 

“Arthur,” Merlin said. They all knew he was taking this news the hardest. He was the Prince, how could he not? “We should take Elyan and leave the city. It’s too dangerous to stay here.” 

“No. We must go to the castle and find out what’s going on; see if my father is ok,” Arthur declared. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” questioned Merlin. 

“It’s not an idea. It’s an order. Let’s go.” Arthur left the home without another word. 

Draco realized that he was still holding onto Harry. Harry saw the painful embarrassment on his face before he yanked his hand away and looked anywhere but Harry. Ron came over and saved Harry from the awkwardness. 

“This is bad,” Ron said, walking out the house with him. “Do you think they’d guard the castle from Dolohov? The army that took the castle?” 

“I don’t know. I imagine they have more important things on their mind, but I don’t know if they’d let anyone inside at this point,” Harry replied. 

“I just hope he doesn’t get his hands on the invisibility cloak, or the Resurrection Stone. You know, I’m not even sure where they put it,” Ron said, gesturing to Arthur and Merlin. 

“I assume they put it somewhere safe, I don’t think we should worry about it much, there’s already too much going on,” Harry said. 

The walk to the citadel was hard. Arthur’s limp was getting worse, and they all knew it, everyone but Arthur. He wanted to pretend like he was fine, when in reality he could collapse at any moment. 

They didn’t go straight to the front doors of the castle, nor the main courtyard, that would have been foolish. They found a door along the walls of the city, one that led them down a long, claustrophobic hallway and to a tall set of stone stairs. It was obvious this passage was supposed to be hidden, and for knights only. It led them straight to the stairs near the dungeons. Harry wondered if Dolohov had used that exact passage to escape. If he did, it meant that somebody with in-depth knowledge of the castle had helped him get out, there was no way in hell he could have known about it on his own. 

He was lost in his own thoughts, when all of a sudden he rammed into Draco from behind. He, and the rest of the party, had stopped and pressed themselves against the wall. Harry wanted to tell Draco to watch where he was going, but he read the room and remained quiet. He was glad he did, because a plethora of guards came charging down the stairs. 

“Turn back, we’ll go another way,” Arthur mouthed. They retreated and they took a turn that they’d skipped before. It made the journey to the main part of the castle longer, but it was far safer and out of the way from any guards. From there, they made it to the third floor of the castle. Moonlight poured in from the windows, illuminating two more dead bodies on the floor.

“What now?” Merlin asked. 

Arthur struggled to stay vertical. He had to lean against the wall to keep from fainting. “Now, uh-” he couldn’t finish he was so weak. 

“Arthur,” Merlin grabbed his shoulder. “You can’t go on like this,” he said. 

“We-we must find the others,” Arthur insisted in a breathy voice. 

“You can’t go on without treatment,” Merlin told him, worry clear as day in his eyes. 

“My father, Morgana,” he said. 

“Elyan,” Merlin said. “Do you know the way to the dungeons?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied. 

“Right, Hermione and Draco, go with Gwaine and Elyan. See if you can find them. Ron, Harry, you’ll come with us,” Merlin said. Ron seemed hesitant. Harry understood why. What if she was caught again? What if she died, and Ron wasn’t there to do something? What if he never saw her again? Yeah, Harry understood, especially as he watched Draco leave without so much as a glance. Harry chastised himself for being saddened. Why on earth would Draco look back at him? He turned around before he saw that Draco, in fact, did. 

“I’m going with them,” Arthur said, trying to chase after the others. Merlin held him back. 

“No, you’re not,” he said. 

“That’s an order,” Arthur attempted, but this was Merlin, he should have known better. 

“To hell with your orders you’re coming with me. You two look out for danger and keep your wands ready.” Ron and Harry did as they were told. Right now, with Merlin taking control, it was easier to see past his disguise as a meger servant and see the hero he was. He took Arthur over his arm, and stumbled with him down the corridor.  On the way to Gaius’s chambers, they narrowly avoided an encounter with a host of enemies. Harry wondered what would happen if they were discovered. These men were immortal, would their magic do any good? Harry did not want to find out.  Harry had never been so happy to see the Physician’s Chambers. They provided a false sense of security, like the fact that he’d been there before would protect them from being discovered and killed. Merlin tossed a fuming Arthur onto a bench. 

“You’re disobeying orders, I’ll have you in the stocks for this!” Arthur exclaimed. 

It was an empty threat, and Merlin knew it. “Fine,” he said. “Now stay put, and don’t move that leg.” Merlin abandoned him and went to search the crowded racks for the proper antidote. As he combed the quarters for medicine, Harry heard a soft thump from within the closet. 

“Did you hear that?” Ron asked. 

“Yes. I suppose we should investigate it,” Harry said. 

“I suppose.”

“I’ll open the door, you be ready with your wand.”

“What? Why do you get to open the door while I have to fight ‘em?” 

“Just do it Ron!” Harry shoved him in the direction of the closet, and wrapped his hand around the knob. 

“If I die,” Ron said. “I’m going to kill you.”  Harry rolled his eyes, and counted to three on his fingers. He flung the door open, and a wave of relief flooded him when he saw it was only Gaius. Merlin looked over to see what the ruckus was about, and his face lit up at the sight of the old man. 

“Gaius!"

“Merlin!” 

Merlin left Arthur’s side to wrap himself around Gaius. “Are you alright?” Merlin asked. 

“All the better for seeing you,” Gaius said. Arthur cleared his throat, reminding Merlin why they were there. 

“I tried to heal him using magic,” Merlin uttered. “But it didn’t work.” 

“Well,” Gaius said. “At least these two are alright. Now this might hurt a bit, sire.” He approached Arthur and took a look at the injury. “The wound is infected. I’ll have to redress the leg to reduce inflammation.” 

“No, no, no. We haven’t got time! Just give me something to keep going,” Arthur protested. 

“Yes, sire,” Gaius said with disinclination. 

Harry, Ron, Merlin, and Gaius all grouped around a nearby table. They spoke in low voices to keep Arthur from hearing. “It’s the immortal army, isn’t it?” Merlin asked. 

“We’ll be lucky to get away with our lives, any of us,” Gaius answered. 

“I do love optimism,” Harry murmured. He was ignored. 

“We can’t stay for long,” Merlin said. “After Arthur is healed, we should regroup with Gwaine and Elyan, then leave Camelot until it’s safe to return.” 

“Gwaine and Elyan? They’re here? What about Draco and Hermione, did they make it?” Gaius asked. 

“They’re fine, and all together. They’re looking for the King and Morgana, but something tells me she has a hand in all of this,” Merlin replied. 

“Morgana?” Harry asked. He remembered her name from Merlin’s Journals. If he recalled, she was not one to be trifled with. 

“Yes, she’s not a friend, to put it lightly,” Merlin said. 

“Then why’d she help us escape jail?” Ron inquired. 

“That’s a good question we don’t have time to contemplate. Merlin, go pack your things. You boys will help me take care of the Prince,” Gaius instructed. Merlin scurried off into Harry and Draco’s room, and Harry prayed Gaius’s remedy wouldn’t take long. He knew next to nothing about medicine. 

“Here,” Gaius said, handing him and Ron some smelly leaves. “Grind these while I heat this special oil.” 

“Oh, it’ll be like potions class,” Ron said as they searched for individual mortar and pestles. There were plenty lying around, so it wasn’t hard. Grinding the herbs wasn’t hard either, the worst part was the aroma as they were crushed. 

“Uck,” Harry said as finally, Gaius was ready for them to pour the leaves in. The stench vanished the moment the additive combined with the oil. “Good riddance.” 

“The effect will be instant, sire, but I cannot guarantee how long it will last.” As Gaius handed Arthur the concoction, Merlin emerged from his room. 

“Thank you Gaius,” he gasped after downing the medicine. 

The door opened, and the others came running in. Harry felt a huge pressure lifted off of him once he saw both Draco and Hermione unscathed. “The King, sire, he’s alive,” Elyan announced. 

“Where is he?” Arthur asked, jumping to his feet. 

“There taking him to the throne room as we speak,” Gwaine said. 

“This may be my last chance,” Arthur said. 

“Last chance at what? Getting yourself killed?” Draco said.

“He’s right Arthur,” Merlin said. “There’s too many of them. You’ll never make it.” 

“I won’t leave my father alone to die,” Arthur said, sharing an intense look with him. “Gwaine, Elyan, take Gaius and the wizards, then make your way to the woods beyond the castle.” 

“Wizards? You mean they have magic?” Elyan looked at them warily. 

“Don’t worry, they’re trustworthy,” Arthur told him. 

“Handy in a fight too,” Gwaine added. 

“If you say so,” Elyan said, but he seemed far from convinced. “We should be on our way.” Here’s where Harry was torn. The Gryffindor in him was curious, making him want to stay and see what was happening in the throne room. The rational part of him was telling him to flee while he got the chance. He took one look at Draco, and decided that the risk was too much. He wasn’t going to put his life in peril to be part of the adventure, there were so many possibilities for the future. 

“I hope we meet again,” Arthur said, and they left with Gwaine and Elyan to flee the castle. 


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Chapter twenty! I can't believe we're here already! Thank you to whoever has been reading this long, I sincerely appreciate it!

A few hours passed before Arthur and Merlin arrived at the hideout. When they returned, they had a plethora of news, none of it good. The mood in the cave was already solemn; learning that Dolohov had been in the throne room with Morgana, holding the invisibility cloak, only dampened their spirits more. Ron was honestly starting to believe they would never get home. Everything in Camelot was going to shit, and Dolohov had the upper hand now that he was working with the “Queen” of Camelot. They were stuck in a dank cave as a cherry on top. 

“Hey,” Hermione approached with a weak smile. As miserable as he was, he saw her and a warm grin spread across his face. She was the one thing keeping him optimistic. Even if they were there forever, forced into hiding by an immortal army, he would have her. Harry was there too, but he’d been so distant and self absorbed lately, Ron felt like they hadn’t had a proper conversation in days; not since he’d been rooming with Malfoy. Ron had no bloody clue why Harry wanted to be Malfoy’s best mate all of a sudden, or why he decided to get drunk with him, but he was starting to get concerned. Even now, Harry was across the cavern, having a drink of water with Malfoy. They were spending too much time together, in Ron’s opinion. 

Ron wasn’t jealous, the farthest from it. It was the Malfoy part that bothered him. If it were anyone else, Ron wouldn’t care at all. But this was the guy who’d made fun of Ron’s family, who’d been a death eater, used slurs against his girlfriend, it baffled Ron how Harry was so friendly with him. 

“I brought lunch,” Hermione said. It was a single piece of bread. 

“Oh, thanks,” Ron said. He was appreciative, but he had been hoping for more. 

“I know,” Hermione said, tearing it in half. “It’s not a lot, but it’s better than nothing, and the main course is chunks of rat.” Ron gagged at the idea. Scabbers, although a secret man, had been a filthy little creature. The thought of eating him was revolting. 

She sat down next to him, handed him his half, and rested her head on his shoulder. They ate in silence. Ron couldn’t think of a conversation topic that wasn’t depressing. Just then, Merlin ran in panting. He grabbed the closest canteen and tried to take a drink, but it was starch dry. 

“I’ll get some more,” Elyan offered. 

“It’s too dangerous,” Merlin said.

“What happened?” Gaius asked. 

“Nothing,” Merlin said. He approached Gaius, and they began to speak in whispers, like usual. 

“You know, I wish they would tell us something once and awhile,” Ron said to Hermione. 

“We’ve talked about this Ronald. I’m sure Merlin has reasons to keep things from us. We’ve only known him for a few days.” 

“We still know more about him than anyone here,” Ron said. Their discussion was cut short when Elyan approached. 

“Hi,” he greeted. “My name is Elyan, I don’t think we’ve properly spoken.” 

“Hello, I’m Hermione, this is Ron, but you already knew that didn’t you? Merlin told you earlier in the castle.” She rambled. Ron had already heard all about Sir Elyan on the journey to the cave, how he, like Gwaine, was going to be a Knight of the Round Table someday.

“Yes, well, consider this a formal introduction. You know, I’m quite curious about you guys. How did you manage to get the son of Uther Pendragon to like a group of sorcerers?” He asked with a laugh. 

“Maybe ‘like’ is a strong word, but he tolerates us I think,” Ron said. 

Elyan shook his head. “Trust me, he likes you, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have let you share a house with my sister.” 

“You know about that?” Hermione asked. 

“Yes, Merlin’s informed me on most of the stuff that’s happened. Won’t tell me where you’re from though,” Elyan said. 

“It’s not important,” Ron said. He didn’t feel like getting into a time travel discussion. In the distance, he could see Merlin trying to feed Arthur a bowl of the rat. He couldn’t imagine what Arthur was going through at the moment. If it were Ron, if he had lost something as large as a kingdom, if his father had lied to him, and if he found out that Ginny was a death eater, he would be so heartbroken and betrayed he would want to lay down and never wake up. By the look on Arthur’s face, that’s exactly how he was feeling. At least Merlin’s presence brought some life back to his face, even if that life was annoyance.

Merlin said something to him, something Ron couldn’t hear, but when he was finished, he left Arthur deep in thought. Merlin knelt down a foot away, and after some contemplation, Arthur picked up the bowl and began to eat. How he stomached it, Ron would never know. Merlin saw that Arthur had begun to eat, and he turned his face to hide his wide beam. 

“Wow,” Ron said. “They’re really good friends, aren’t they? More like brothers, I would say.” He hoped he and Harry had something like that. For some reason, Hermione looked at him slack jawed. Elyan looked away, pretending he was clueless 

“What?” Ron asked. “Have I said something wrong?” 

“It makes  _ so  _ much sense why it took you so long to ask me out now.” 

“What are you on about?” 

Hermione sighed. “It isn’t my place to say, it isn’t my place to say,” she said, like she was convincing herself not to snap. Elyan seemed very interested in the wall all of a sudden. 

“Do you know what she’s talking about?” Ron inquired. 

“Uh-no, no, no, no. It’s-that’s too-I’m going to talk to Gwaine,” he got up so fast Ron didn’t catch the last part of the sentence. Ron looked back to Hermione, now he was the one slack-jawed. 

“Just finish your bread love,” Hermione said, rubbing his back. “Just finish your bread.”

“That is  _ really  _ condescending you know,” he mumbled before eating the last bites. 

“Well Ron sometimes it’s earned,” she said. Ron didn’t want to fight, but now he felt like there wasn’t a choice. Like an angel sent from heaven, Harry appeared to keep the peace. Surprise, surprise, he brought the pale devil with him too. When Harry wasn’t looking, Ron shot a sneer at Malfoy, who reciprocated with equal passion. 

“Hey Harry,” Hermione greeted. 

“Hey,” he said, sitting down across from her. Malfoy sat so close to him their knees touched, and they created a little circle between the four of them. “Hermione, you read those journals too, right?” Harry asked. 

“Of course I did. Every last one,” she said with pride. 

“Then you must remember this whole immortal army thing from the third volume, it was the last chapter,” Harry whispered, not wanting anyone else but them to hear. Hermione searched her brain, but she had her moment of revelation. 

“Yes! I didn’t even think of that, how bloody exciting is this!” She exclaimed, making Ron’s chest flutter. She only said “bloody” when she was extra emotional about something. Ron found it adorable, knowing she had picked it up from him. “Oooh, you know what’s going to happen tonight? Right?” 

“Merlin is going to retrieve  _ Excalibur, _ ” Harry said, much less enthused. Ron knew Harry wasn’t going to be as thrilled as Hermione about any of this, but he almost sounded sorrowful. 

“Mate, that’s a legendary sword, why aren’t you more excited?” Ron asked. 

“Because I can’t stop thinking about the way he finds it,” Harry said. 

“What? With Kil-Kil-” he forgot the name. “The Great Dragon? That’s mad wicked, why is that bad?” Ron asked, earning a strange look from him and Malfoy. Did they not know Hermione had made him read the journals when she was reading them for the first time? Well, he’d never mentioned it, so he didn't blame them. 

“No, I’m not talking about Kilgharrah, I’m talking about the water from the Lake of Avalon.” He leaned in like he was about to tell a super big secret, and he lowered his voice even more (if that was possible). “When Arthur...dies...he needs water from the Lake of Avalon, right? Right now, Merlin has a vial of that exact water with him, water he’s going to use tonight. He thinks that  _ this  _ is Camelot’s darkest hour from when he spoke to the Fisher King, but I don’t believe this is when Merlin was meant to use it. I think it was meant to save Arthur’s life.” 

They were silent. None of them wanted to be reminded of Arthur’s inevitable fate. For Ron, it had been knocking at a door in his brain, asking to come in and fill him with dread, but he never let it in. Now, the door was being kicked down. He glanced at Arthur and felt like throwing up. 

“What are you trying to say?” Hermione asked. 

“Would it be so wrong of us to let him know where the sword is? We know he needs  _ Excalibur  _ to save Camelot. We could tell him, he wouldn’t use the water, and we could potentially save Arthur’s life down the line,” Harry suggested. It was a nice idea with good intentions. Ron would love to do it, but there was a reason Harry spoke with such hesitance. 

“But Harry,” Hermione said. “There’s no telling what might happen if we change such drastic events. Telling them random facts about the future, like how wands work, isn’t going to hurt. Telling them they’ll be remembered isn’t going to change our world. But Arthur’s death, that changed the course of history, especially for wizards and witches. Saving him sounds great now, but what sort of irreversible damage could it do to the future?” 

“I know,” Harry sighed. “But the more I think about it, the worse I feel. We have the power to save a life, one that’s cared for immensely. It kills me to think that we would sit back and let him die. It’s different when you read about it, but now that we know him, I-I feel like we’re committing murder or something.” 

“I’m trying not to think about it that way,” Malfoy said, looking at Harry and only Harry. “I think that treating his…like a rotten memory, may be easier to deal with. Because essentially, that’s all this is: a memory. We want to change it, but we can’t, and we shouldn’t. Even if it hurts to think about, it’s an essential part of us. If the bad memory had played out differently, we wouldn’t be the people we are today, and who’s to say doing something different wouldn’t have led to a worse outcome? For us, we have to force ourselves to let this bad memory play out like it’s meant to.” 

“Wow Draco,” Harry said sarcastically. “Who knew you were such a philosopher?” Draco? When had Harry started calling him Draco? 

“I had to cope with my mistakes somehow,” Malfoy replied. The little bit of lightheartedness Harry had managed to create with his joke, was now dashed. Harry’s eyes filled with pity. Even Malfoy had managed to make Ron feel a bit bad for him, but not too much. 

“Oh man,” Gwaine said as he walked by them. “Whose funeral is it?” He chewed on the rat with his mouth wide open. 

“How can you even stomach that?” Ron asked. If anyone could alleviate the mood, it was Gwaine. 

“I try to imagine it tastes like a tender piece of filet mignon,” he told them. 

“And how’s that working out for you?” 

“Not well. In fact, I’m leaving the cave to expel this horrid meat from my body right now. If you’ll excuse me,” he stepped around Malfoy, then Harry, and made his way outdoors. 

“Knight of the Round Table my ass,” Ron mumbled. Arthur had some low standards. 

\----------------------

Night fell, and Ron couldn’t sleep. He, Hermione, and Harry sat wide awake, watching from the shadows as Merlin fumbled with the hourglass of water. Malfoy sat across from them doing the same. They were all waiting for the dreaded shatter of glass, the one that looking back on it, may have sealed Arthur’s cursed fate. However, it never came. Merlin fell asleep holding the vial. It brought Ron a wave of relief, until thirty minutes later when Gwaine got up to use the bathroom, waking Merlin and causing him to break the container. 

Merlin began to panic and he scrambled to put the vial back together, but hope was lost. The water pooled inside of a dip in the stone, and Merlin was on the verge of tears. “Freya?” He gasped. Ron heard nothing, but Merlin continued to have a conversation with the water. 

“No, you-...Is it really you?...I don’t understand...A blade forged in a dragon’s breath...But Morgana’s army is not dead, they’re very much alive...and you will give me the sword?...Thank you…” 

It was Gwaine’s talent to interrupt at the worst moment. He came staggering back into the cave with a relieved grin. “That’s better,” he sighed as he climbed back into bed. “You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He noted after seeing Merlin’s troubled visage. 

“I’m fine, really,” he lied, flashing a false smile. But when Merlin turned back to the water, they watched his smile drop. “Freya?” He muttered to the water. His face hardened as he accepted the fact whoever he spoke to in the water, was gone. He got to his feet, and began to collect anything he might need when he left to visit the dragon.

“I want to see the dragon!” Ron said to the others. 

“You know what,” Harry said. “Me too.” And that’s why they were best friends. 

“Oh I hate dragons!” Hermione whined as Ron and Harry got to their feet. Malfoy’s eyes lit up with exhilaration. Ron couldn’t help but find it funny. The last time Malfoy had gotten involved with their dragon ventures, he’d tried to get them expelled. How times had changed. 

Ron gave Hermione a coercive smile, and said, “We’re not gonna ride it. That’s Merlin’s job.” His volume was too loud, Merlin whirled around to confront them. 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping!” He said in a hushed voice. 

“Listen,” Harry said. “We know you’re about to meet Kilgharrah. We want to come.” Merlin’s face  _ dropped.  _

__ “Were you eavesdropping on me?” He questioned. 

“A little,” Hermione admitted. Merlin sighed and glared at them, but he saw their expectant, eager faces, and his vexation lessened. 

“Fine, you can meet the dragon, but if you fall behind along the way, I’m not coming back for you,” he warned. 

“Yes!” Harry and Ron whispered in unison, high-fiving each other gently. They didn’t want to wake anyone else up. Both Merlin and Hermione shook their heads at them, but they didn’t care, they were about to meet a bloody talking dragon. Already, Ron couldn’t stand the anticipation. 

\------------------

At the pace they were going, especially on such a black night, in woods infested with immortal soldiers, Ron knew why Merlin had warned they might be left behind. There were only so many hours before they had to be back, and even then they would have to find their way back to the cave. However, as he stood on a small field, his hair being blown back by the dragon’s powerful wings, Ron didn’t regret the ache in his legs one bit. He looked over at the others. Harry had the same wonderstruck appearance as Ron. Hermione seemed more scared than anything. Malfoy, Ron didn’t bother to look at Malfoy, he didn’t care. 

Kilgharrah circled the only open plot of land in that entire forest, before landing and shaking the entire ground with his weight. Ron was in awe, he’d seen dragons before, but this one took the cake. It was sentient, as he looked into its eyes, Ron knew it could feel every complex emotion as the puny humans standing in front of him. He was regal, terrifying, but Ron could sense a certain calmness in the air around him. What made Ron truly speechless, was when this mighty beast bowed before Merlin. Ron could only dream about having such power. 

“I have to cross 20 leagues of hostile territory!” Merlin shouted at the dragon. “I need you to take me!” 

“Slow down, young warlock.” The dragon spoke in an earth shaking voice.  _ The dragon spoke _ . Ron wondered if this was all some crazy dream. “For the first time, in the many years we’ve known each other, you’ve brought guests. I believe an explanation, or perhaps introductions, are required.” 

“They weren’t meant to come,” Merlin admitted, sounding embarrassed. “They wanted to meet you.” The dragon chuckled, he didn’t look angry. 

“No harsh feelings warlock,” he examined them closely. His eyes landed on Harry, and the beast bloody smiled. “Harry Potter, I don’t believe it was our destiny to cross paths. Merlin, oh Merlin, what have you gotten yourself into now?” Kilgharrah laughed. Harry went pale. “First you come asking about the Deathly Hallows, and now you bring me the man who is meant to own them centuries into the future? Sometimes I do wish I was back in Camelot, just to hear about the spots you wind up in.” 

“Enough!” Merlin yelled. “You must take me to the Shores of Avalon!” His commanding voice was chilling. It was the voice Ron originally expected Merlin to have. 

“I’m not a horse, Merlin.” 

“If you do not, then Morgana will have won; unless that’s what you want!” 

“My allegiance has never been with the witch.” 

“I know,” Merlin said. “But is it with me?” To be quite honest, after reading through Merlin’s Journals, Ron had gotten a slimy feeling from the dragon. He had some sort of agenda, but it was hard to pinpoint what it was. As Ron stood in front of him, he prayed Kilgharrah was as good natured as he claimed to be, if he was bad it would only ruin this experience. 

“Yes, young warlock, it is with you.” 

Merlin smiled at him, and then looked at the wizards. “So, anything you’d like to say? You were all so set on meeting him.” 

“Yes,” Harry said, stepping forwards. “I’ve been thinking of what I wanted to say the whole way here, and there isn’t much, but I thought that you would like to know you aren’t the end. It may look hopeless now for you dragons, but there will come a time when there are so many of you, laws will be put into place to control your population. I thought that might be interesting for you to hear.” 

“Thank you Harry Potter, that is very interesting to hear, it brings me hope,” Kilgharrah said, and no, Ron felt he wasn’t trying to humor him. 

“Do you eat people?” Hermione blurted. Ron had never felt such second hand embarrassment. She was lucky Kilgharrah had a sense of humor. He cackled so loud the leaves rustled. 

“No, little witch! No!” He laughed. “I go to the coast and feast on fish, no human flesh has touched my tongue.” He’d made it creepier than it should have been. 

“Alright,” Merlin said, clearly growing impatient. “I think it’s about time we leave, time is scarce.” Ron had no complaints. He had just wanted to see Kilgharrah, he didn’t need to ask it a question or anything. He was dragoned out for the evening. “You four, do you know the way to the cave?” They nodded. “Go back, and if I’ve not returned by morning, cover for me. Stay safe.” He said nothing else before climbing onto the head of the dragon. He waved to them, and they flew off into the starry sky. 


	21. Chapter Twenty One

“ _ I warned you before, that in the wrong hands, this sword can do great evil. You must promise me Merlin, that once this task is done, you will place it where none can wield it.”  _ Kilgharrah’s words replayed over and over again in Merlin’s head. He tucked the sword under a burlap wrap, thinking nobody would bother to look through his things. He’d hide it better when the time came, but for now this was the best spot. After hiding it, his eyes fell upon his sleeping bag, and it drew him in like a magnet. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night. However, Arthur had, which meant that rest wasn’t an option even if Merlin’s eyelids felt like iron. 

Arthur marched in. “Having a little lie down, Merlin?” Merlin saw his face and smiled, he looked much more energetic than the previous night. Arthur was so handsome when he glowed with this kind of confidence. 

“No,” Merlin replied. 

“Good, the time for sleeping is over,” Arthur announced.  _ Dammit _ , Merlin thought to himself. 

“You seem better,” Merlin noted as he got to his feet. 

“You’re hopeless at a lot of things, Merlin.” This was off to a great start. “Most things in fact, but very occasionally, quite by accident, you say something useful.” 

“Really?" Merlin asked. He was going to push until he got the compliment Arthur was struggling to say. Arthur needed to find humility somehow. 

“Yesterday, amongst all your gibberish, you said something that if I didn’t know you, I’d be completely fooled into thinking you were…” he couldn’t spit it out. How Merlin found this endearing escaped him. Arthur wasn’t even able to complete his poor flattery, but Merlin felt himself falling a tiny farther anyhow. It was scarce that Arthur even attempted something like this, the meaning behind it was enough for Merlin. It was one of those rare moments that Merlin found himself believing what Hermione had said to him in that cage. 

“What?” Merlin inquired. Was he selfish for wanting to hear him say it?

Arthur hesitated, but he forced it out of himself. “Wise.” Merlin’s heart leapt with joy. He had the compliment, it had given him butterflies, and now it was time to deflect it. 

“No,” he replied with the shake of his head. Merlin continued to look into his eyes, and warm affection began to overwhelm his insides. Sometimes, Merlin hated how strong he sometimes felt from merely looking at him, occasionally it was painful. There was no way, not in any world or time, could it be natural to feel such things. 

“Hey, did you hear that?” Harry asked. No, Merlin hadn’t heard anything. He tore himself from Arthur’s gaze to listen. In the distance, outside the cave, he could hear shouting. He, Harry, Arthur, and Gwaine grabbed weapons to go investigate. Draco got up to follow, but Harry touched his chest to keep him from going farther. “No, stay back.”

Draco glared at him. “You don’t own me, Harry!” 

“That’s not what I-” 

“We don’t have time for this, are you coming or not?” Arthur hissed. 

“Yes!” He shoved past Harry and was the first one to exit the cave. Harry sighed in his direction, but he kept his mouth shut and followed Merlin out. It was tense for the first few moments outside. They heard numerous footsteps heading their way, and all Merlin could think was that they had been found, and that they were about to die. The footsteps were so close, they were just around the corner. Arthur leapt out with his sword, and was met with a high pitched scream. 

“Gueneviere!” He exclaimed in relief. The sight of Gwen and Leon brought a bright smile to Merlin’s face. Gwen was also exuberant with joy, but her eyes flickered between Merlin and Arthur, and her joy dwindled. “Gueneviere,” Arthur repeated with much less enthusiasm. As Merlin approached Gwen for a hug, he was confused to see her eyes fill with misery.

“It’s good to see you,” he spoke into her ear. She didn’t say it back. She didn’t hug him back. She didn’t look him in the eye. He pulled back with knit brows, she had  _ never  _ acted so cold towards him. “Is everything alright?” He hated to see her so downtrodden. 

“I don’t know Merlin,” she answered in a broken voice. 

“There almost upon us!” Elyan came sprinting at them from the trees with Ron and Hermione close behind him. He wasn’t talking about more friends this time. 

“Get Gaius,” Arthur instructed Merlin. “We need to get out of here! Run!” He shouted at the others. 

Merlin dashed into the cave. “They found us. We need to go,” he said to Gaius. 

“I’ll slow you down. It’s Arthur you need to protect, not me,” Gaius argued. Merlin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Gaius was suicidal, apparently. 

“I won’t leave you,” Merlin said. Gaius needed to stop this nonsense. 

“Camelot needs you,” Gaius said. 

“Camelot needs us both. Go!” Merlin ordered, shoving him at the entrance. Gaius pouted at him, but did as he was told. “I’ll be right behind you.” Merlin told him. He ran to where he had hidden  _ Excalibur,  _ and took the magnificent sword in hand. He had no time to grab anything else. He left the cave, and his stomach dropped when he saw multiple soldiers in the distance. He hurried in the opposite direction of them, but it was no use. 

Merlin came face to face with a soldier taller and stronger than him. All he could do was really on the sword. They entered a fierce battle, one where Merlin was outmatched. He did his best to fight back, but he mostly found himself blocking and parrying. He was certain he was about to lose, but he hit a stroke of luck when he stumbled and the blade poked his opponents stomach. The soldier burst into fiery dust within a millisecond. Merlin looked at  _ Excalibur  _ with amazement. What a handy piece of metal. 

He tried to remember which way Arthur and the others had gone, and charged after him. When he found his prince, there were two more people in the group than before. His whole disposition lit up like a torch when he saw Lancelot had managed to make it. Beside him was the most muscular man Merlin had ever seen. He had stellar arms and a bright, puppy dog smile. 

“Merlin!” Gwaine exclaimed, greeting him with a clap on the shoulder. “Where did you go? The boulders fell and I thought we’d lost you forever!” 

“I had to grab something,” Merlin said. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione approached, unable to take their eyes off the sword in his hand. 

“Is that…” Harry trailed off, memorized by the silver and gold. 

“Yes,” Merlin replied. He had learned not to question when they knew about these things. 

“This is-just-wow,” Hermione whispered. She had tears in her eyes. “I’ve seen the paintings and heard the bedtime stories, but to see it in real life...may I hold it?” Merlin was hesitant. This sword was meant for Arthur, and Arthur alone, how would Kilgharrah react if he knew he’d let Hermione hold it? It was clear this meant much to her, so Merlin went against his conscience and placed it in her hands. 

“Only for a minute,” he said. She turned it over in her hand like it was made of fragile glass. Merlin appreciated her care. As he watched her every movement, he eavesdropped on Arthur’s conversation with Lancelot and the new guy. 

“I take it that rock fall wasn’t an accident,” Arthur said to Lancelot. 

“This is Percival,” Lancelot said. “It was his strength that brought them down.” Hermione handed  _ Excalibur  _ to Ron for him to marvel at. 

“Your highness,” said Percival. 

“Arthur.” 

“Arthur it is,” Percival said as they shook hands. 

“What were you doing here?” Arthur asked, speaking to Lancelot again. Merlin grabbed  _ Excalibur  _ from Draco’s hands and set it on the ground. Show-and-tell was over. 

“It was me,” Merlin informed him as he walked over. “I sent for him.” 

“Well we owe you our lives. Thank you,” Arthur said with a grateful smile. Lancelot glanced around him, and at Gwen, who was kneeling beside Gaius. She had been staring at Merlin and Arthur, but when she saw Lancelot watching her, a look of epiphany broke across her face, and then a shy smirk. Merlin was relieved to see her merry. 

************

Hermione couldn’t take her eyes off him: Lancelot. She had mixed feelings about the day. It had started awful with the attack, but she’d also gotten to see the sword from her favorite legend as a child, and meet the most famous knight of all time, Sir Lancelot. She’d never thought of Gwen as  _ the  _ Guenievre either. She felt foolish, not having put it together until Lancelot came into the picture, but now she couldn’t look at her the same. She was living through every fairytale she’d ever wanted to live through, and if she remembered Merlin’s Journals correctly, she was about to witness the birth of the Knights of the Round Table. She felt like the luckiest girl on the planet. 

“Hey,” Ron said as they climbed a steep hill to an abandoned castle. “You never told me why you were mad at me yesterday.” 

Hermione wasn’t sure what he meant. “What are you talking about?” 

“You know, when we were talking with Elyan,” he said. 

“Oh!” Hermione knew now. “I wasn’t mad at you, just dismayed.” 

“Dismayed?” 

“Yes, dismayed that some things aren’t as obvious to you as they are to me. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, love,” she apologized, kissing him on the cheek. 

“You didn’t. I was confused, I’m confused now. What am I missing?” 

Hermione shook her head, she didn’t feel right telling him, this was Merlin and Arthur’s personal business. 

“I can’t say,” she said. 

“Can you give me a hint at least?” 

“Just try to look at things with an open mind, and I’m sure you’ll catch on,” Hermione said with a wink. He still looked confused, but that was all she was going to say. They entered the castle, and they found a large stone room covered in sheets and cobwebs. 

“We’ll stay here for the night,” Arthur announced. Hermione grimaced, the floor looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in ages. 

“Are you sure we’ll be safe in here?” Gaius asked him. 

“This castle belonged to the ancient knights,” Arthur said. “It’ll do for awhile.” It was strange to think that what Hermione thought was ancient, they thought as modern. What they thought as ancient, Hermione thought as primitive. 

“Can’t be worse than that cave,” Elyan said. That indeed was true. Hermione was glad to have someone looking on the bright side of things. 

“Search the place, see what you can find,” Arthur ordered. 

Gwen lit the candles scattered about the room, her eyes switching between Arthur and Merlin, especially when they spoke to each other. Percival brought Gaius, who was aching from their harsh travels, a cup of water. Merlin stoked the fire. Lancelot, Gwaine, and Elyan came in carrying armfuls of weapons. 

“They must have been left by bandits,” said Gwaine. As they sorted through the pile, Arthur made a discovery that would change his life. A blanket laid on a table in the middle of the room. Arthur grabbed it, and threw the blanket to the side, revealing a round table. 

“Here, come and join me,” he said. Everyone paused what they were doing to come sit with him. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Malfoy stayed standing. There was no room for them at that table, and this was not their story. 

It was hard to catch, but before Merlin sat down, Arthur subtly pulled out his chair. Only Hermione and Gwen noticed, not even Merlin. Hermione thought it was sweet, but it only brought pain to Gwen’s eyes. Arthur stood at the head of the table, preparing to give a speech. 

“This table belonged to the ancient kings of Camelot. A round table afforded no one man more importance than any other. They believed in equality in all things. So it seems fitting that we revive this tradition now. Without each of you, we would not be here. My father has languished in prison for too long. Tomorrow I make my bid to rescue him. Are there any around this table who will join me?” 

Hermione couldn’t help it, she was crying. She was witnessing history. Ron reached over and squeezed her hand. There were only a few moments of silence before Lancelot got to his feet. 

“You taught me the values of being a knight, the code by which a man should live his life: to fight with honor, for justice, freedom, and all that’s good,” his eyes flickered to Gwen. “I believe in the world that you will build.” 

The next to speak was Elyan. “Even though I was a commoner, a nobody, you were willing to lay down your life for me, Arthur. It is now my return to repay you.” 

“Oh, I see,” Malfoy whispered. “They’re all going to join him, for sure, but for the drama everyone has to give a touching speech.” 

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry muttered. Draco? When had Harry started calling him Draco? 

“I have fought alongside you many times. There is no one I would rather die for,” Sir Leon said. 

“I think we have no chance,” Gwaine said. “But I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

Next, Percival stood. “You’re enemies are my enemies.”

“If you need an old man…” Gaius offered. 

Guinevere took a deep sigh, before rousing and saying, “Anything for a friend.” Arthur gave her a shocked, but pleased smile. They were all standing. Everyone but the blue eyed sorcerer to Arthur’s left. 

“Merlin?” 

“No, I don’t really fancy it.”

“You don’t have a choice Merlin.”

“Okay,” Merlin sighed. His actions betrayed him. He jumped up with more enthusiasm than any of them. They shared some of the flirtiest looks, the most bashful grins Hermione had ever seen before Arthur had to pay attention to the other seven people at his table. 

“I want to thank all of you for staying loyal to me in Camelot’s hour of need. I’ll do something my father won’t approve of.” Arthur led Lancelot, Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival to the open space next to the fire. He withdrew his sword, and Hermione’s breath hitched with excitement. 

“I think we’re about to witness their knightings!” Hermione whispered to Ron. 

“That’s bloody wicked!” 

She was right. They knelt before Arthur and Leon, and Arthur approached Lancelot. He tapped his shoulders with the blade. 

“Arise, Sir Lancelot, Knight of Camelot.” He rose. Arthur went down the line, and repeated the process three times. “Arise, Sir Gwaine, Knight of Camelot….Arise, Sir Percival, Knight of Camelot….Arise, Sir Elyan, Knight of Camelot.” They stood proud, and tall, even Gwaine could not be mistaken for anything other than a knight. Hermione swore she had a children’s book at her parents house with an illustration identical to what was happening in front of her. 

“Tomorrow when you fight, you can stand proud knowing that you are members of the most noble army the world has ever known.” 

*********

“Mind if I sit here?”

Draco returned from a bathroom break. He, Harry, Merlin, Lancelot, and Arthur were the only ones awake. Merlin and Lancelot laid facing each other and whispering to each other, so of course, Arthur watched them from across the room with transparent jealousy. Draco wondered how they’d managed to go so long without all of Camelot knowing about their feelings for each other.

“Sure,” Harry replied. He didn’t even look at Draco as he slid down next to him. He was too busy fiddling with his wand. Draco leaned the back of his head on the stone, but after a moment of silence, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He rested his temple against the wall so he could look at Harry. He didn’t know why he wanted to look at Harry. His disheveled, ebony hair wasn’t worth a glance. His emerald eyes were nothing special. And don’t get Draco started on his stupid jawline. It made Draco furious he couldn’t remember what had happened that made him want to ogle Harry the way girls did at Krum. He was  _ Harry Potter _ , and if Draco recalled correctly, the most annoying person at Hogwarts.

It was their night at the tavern, it had to be. That’s when he started to...feel...things about him. Not just forgiveness, but gross emotions, like fondness. It’s also when Harry had started to act differently towards him. For example, in the throne room, when he’d risked his life to argue Draco’s death sentence, or when his face lit up because Draco was walking towards him, or when he’d wanted to know what his patronus was. Before the tavern, Harry never would have done those things. Draco would give anything to know what had caused such a change. The only positive was that he knew not to get drunk again, not with Harry. 

“What?” 

Draco had been staring at Harry way longer than he meant to. He wouldn’t be surprised if Harry was creeped out. 

“I was just wondering how much you remember from the tavern. We haven’t talked about it, not alone at least,” Draco said. 

“Not much. I know we got caught for using magic to refill our drinks, mostly because Arthur yelled at us about it. Hmm, now that I’m thinking about it, you challenged me to a drinking contest, didn’t you?” He asked. Heat crawled up Draco’s neck. 

“It’s fuzzy,” he said. It wasn't a lie. He remembered the contest, but he didn’t remember what the stakes were, or anything afterwards. 

“Wait, you lost!” Harry exclaimed. 

“Shh, Harry, people are trying to sleep!” Draco said, motioning for him to quiet down. 

“Do you think if we went to the tavern again, I could beat you again?” Harry asked at a lower volume. 

“It doesn’t matter, we’re not going to the tavern again. Unless you  _ want  _ to be arrested and killed,” Draco said. 

“No, I’m not talking about here. I’m thinking if we get back to our time, we could go to the Three Broomsticks so I can see what it’s like to beat you at a drinking contest twice,” Harry suggested. 

“Being the better alcoholic is nothing to boast about, Potter,” Draco snapped. Harry let out a quiet laugh, and he grinned wide at Draco. “Stop laughing at me.” Draco said, pretending he didn’t care for his smile. 

“Sorry, you’re just so…” He trailed off. Out of habit, Draco filled the gap with negative descriptors. 

“You’re making fun of me for what I did when I was drunk, but you were way worse than me, by far,” Draco told him. “You refused to shut up. You kept talking about mirrors, and apples, and all sorts of weird stuff.” 

“Mirrors?” Harry’s smile vanished. “What did I say about mirrors?” 

“I don’t know, it was gibberish.” 

Harry exhaled in relief, but now Draco wanted to know what the big deal was. He knew it was touchy, but his curiousity was too strong. 

“Why are you worried about it? It’s a mirror, not some huge secret,” Draco said. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry replied. 

“What did it do? Tell you you weren’t the fairest maiden in the land?” 

“I didn’t know you were a fan of princess movies, Draco.” 

“Shut up Potter. And don’t deflect my question, I answered yours about my patronus,” Draco said. 

“This is way different than that.”

“How?” 

“Because, I’m not talking about any mirror, I’m talking about the Mirror of Erised. I know you know what that is, because you kept throwing mean notes at me in Charms when we learned about it.” 

Draco did remember that. He felt bad, but to be fair, he always put  _ a lot _ of effort into those notes (especially the ones with drawings). He would only throw perfection at the back of Harry’s head. He also knew what the Mirror of Erised was, what it did. It made more sense why Harry was reluctant to tell him. Still, he wanted to know, and he wanted Harry to know that he could trust him with the secret of what he saw. Who was Draco to judge? 

“I’m not going to judge you Harry, I promise,” he said in the most earnest voice he could muster. He needed Harry to believe him. 

“It’s not that, I-I’m thirsty. I’m going to get a drink of water.” Without another word, Harry got up and went to the opposite side of the room where Merlin had put the canteens. Draco banged his head against the wall in frustration, that could not have gone any worse.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

Gwen hated this. She hated being stuck with Arthur, and she hated being stuck with all of these men. The only people in this group she could stand talking with were Lancelot, Elyan, and the wizards. Gaius was alright too, but everytime she looked at him, all she could think about was Merlin, then she thought of Arthur, then she got sad. But what she hated most of all was how unfair she was being to Merlin. Arthur had told her not to resent him, but it was harder said than done. When she looked at Merlin, she began to berate herself for how foolish she had been, and for so long too. How? She asked herself. How had she missed what was so damn obvious? 

Arthur spent every waking moment either with Merlin, or looking for Merlin, or talking about whatever daft thing Merlin had done that day. He beamed the widest only when Merlin was in the room, he had never shown that kind of smile to Gwen. Merlin could be doing something as trivial as eating, and Arthur would look at him like he was the entire world. Merlin pushed Arthur the hardest out of everyone, he pushed his patience, his temper, his feelings, his morals, and Gwen knew Arthur loved that in a partner. It was all so obvious, and Gwen had made a mockery of herself believing she could ever compare to Merlin in Arthur’s eyes. 

She wanted to be friends with Merlin, she wanted it so bad. He wasn't part of this. Merlin had always been good to her from the moment they’d met. He was one of the sweetest, funniest, most trustworthy friends she’d ever had. He was the most supportive out of anyone during her and Arthur’s relationship. Hurting him like this was the last thing she’d ever wanted to do; but it would be impossible for them to ever have the same relationship they did before, not with the kind of pain and jealousy she felt every time she looked at him. Even now, as she sat next to Merlin, listening to Arthur go over the plan, she felt tense. 

“There is a tunnel under the northern ramparts that brings us only a few paces from the entrance to the dungeons. It will be well guarded. So if we’re going to break everyone out, we must remain unobserved. We cannot let them raise the alarm,” Arthur explained. 

“We need to take out the warning bell. That way, the warriors have no means of communications,” Lancelot said. 

“Good idea,” Arthur replied. 

“But I’ll need someone with me who knows the castle,” Lancelot said. Gwen was about to offer her services, she knew how to wield a sword, but she was beaten to it. 

“I’ll go,” Merlin offered. 

Arthur seemed disheartened that he wouldn’t have his little crush to look after, but he didn’t argue. “Alright. But you should bring one or two of the wizards along with you. Their magic is powerful, and you’ll need the extra protection.” 

“We can do it,” Ron said, gesturing between himself and Hermione. 

“Good,” Arthur said. “The rest of us will free my father and any other non-criminal prisoners Morgana might have. Now go and gather what you need. We leave in no less than an hour.” They disbanded from the table, and when Merlin went over by the window to sharpen Arthur’s sword, Arthur followed. Gwen couldn’t help herself. She walked over to Hermione, who was standing closest to them, and much to Hermione’s surprise Gwen looped their arms together.

“What’s the matt-” 

“Shh!” Gwen hushed her, and listened closely to what Merlin and Arthur were saying. 

“You know Merlin, swords are supposed to be able to cut things,” Arthur said in that teasing tone he reserved for the servant alone. 

“Yeah, what does it look like I’m doing?” Merlin sassed back. 

“The worst sharpening job I’ve ever seen. Seriously, it would barely cut butter at this rate.” 

“You think you could do it better?” 

“Yes, but I’m not going to do your job for you Merlin. You know, it doesn’t matter anyways, I won’t be using the sword anyways.” 

“So what? I’m doing this for nothing?”

“You’re going to use it, dollophead.” 

He was giving Merlin his  _ sword?  _ Gwen’s heart sank, it must have been apparent on her face, because Hermione looked at her with pity. 

“How is that going to work? Are you planning on punching them to death?” Merlin replied. Arthur laughed lightly at him. 

“I’ll use one of the extra swords Elyan, Lancelot, and Gwaine brought in yesterday. I can’t let you run around the castle without protection, Merlin.” 

“First of all, I have my own sword. Second of all, Lancelot, Ron, and Hermione are going to be there with me. If anything you’ll need extra protection since I won’t be with you."

“I swear, you haven’t gotten any funnier since the day we met. But all jokes aside, you need to look out for yourself. You were only stabbed a few days ago, I don’t want you doing something stupid and hurting yourself worse.”

“I’ll be fine, Arthur. Take your sword, and don’t forget to use the pointy end,” Merlin said. Gwen looked over her shoulder to see what was happening. Merlin handed him the sword, where they allowed their fingers to overlap and linger on the handle. It was such a miniscule touch, but it was enough for Gwen to get her answer: Merlin loved him back. Her throat grew tight and water pooled in her eyes. 

“Wow, what wonderful advice. I should practice it!” Arthur said, voice dripping with sarcasm. As a joke, he lunged at Merlin with his sword. Merlin jumped back and watched with bright eyes as Arthur gave him an equally bright smile. 

“Merlin!” Gaius called from across the room. “Come talk to me!” Merlin couldn’t contain his grin after he turned away from Arthur; then he saw Gwen watching, his grin melted away: Arthur’s too. Then it hit Gwen, she didn’t want to be the reason their smiles faded. No, she still wasn't happy with what had happened, but she figured amends could begin with baby steps. 

“Gwen,” Hermione muttered. There was a hint of guilt in her voice. “I’m sorry, I know how it feels.” How had Hermione gotten in on this drama? Gwen had never told her she had a relationship with Arthur, much less the thing with Merlin.

“Don’t be, none of this is your fault,” Gwen shot her a thin smile. “If you’ll excuse me.” She left Hermione’s side and made her way to Arthur. 

“Hello Arthur,” she said, trying to hide that just moments ago she’d been on the brink of tears. “I think we need to talk.” 

“Me too,” Arthur agreed. They said nothing. Gwen didn’t know how to begin, neither did Arthur. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I should have ended things sooner instead of leading you on. All of this is my fault.” He eventually managed to say.

“I’m sorry too,” she said. “Some of the things I said to you that night were out of line. I was sad, and angry, and I shouldn’t have said them. And not all of this was your fault, my own blindness was just as much of a problem.” 

“Don’t lie to yourself for my benefit, it wasn’t a problem at all. I was the one who led you on. Besides, all of what you said that night was true, no matter how harsh it was.”

“If anything’s a lie, that is. Arthur, letting go of you is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But that’s for me to work out on my own. What I want more than anything is for you to be happy, and I give in to my selfish feelings, that can never happen.” She said with a heavy sigh.

“What are you trying to say?” 

“I’m trying to say that Merlin makes you happy. You make him happy. You belong together, anyone with eyes can see it. While none of us will ever have the same relationships we once did, and even though it hurts everytime I look at you, I’m going to support you as much as I can. When you get together, you’ll need it,” Gwen said. As she said it, she didn’t feel regretful like she thought she would. She saw Arthur become overwhelmed with joy and acceptance, and she couldn’t feel anything but bittersweet. 

“Thank you, Gwen, you don’t know how much that means,” he said. Gwen responded by pulling him into a tight hug. Arthur’s arms nearly suffocated her, but she didn’t care, she closed her eyes and squeezed harder. After Gwen pulled back and walked away, Hermione approached her. 

“I know my input isn’t necessary.” She whispered. “But I think the tale of Lancelot and Gueneviere would be much more legendary anyways.” It was all she said. She gave Gwen a wink, then went over to Ron. 

*******

Harry wasn’t mad at Draco. He knew, from the withdrawn looks, and the fact he’d been avoiding him all day, Draco thought that Harry was unhappy with him. It was far from the truth. Harry was more frustrated with himself than anything. How stupid had he been to tell Draco about the mirror while drunk? How stupid had he been to have a reaction from it’s mention, making Draco curious? 

They were approaching Camelot’s walls, and Harry knew his mind should be in other places, but before they entered the castle he had to clear things up. He would be too distracted if he didn’t. He maneuvered between Elyan and Percival, and tapped on his shoulder. 

“Draco!” he whispered. He could feel Ron’s judgemental glare on the back of his head. He didn’t care. 

“Another time,” Draco snapped. 

“No, now.”

“You know you _ really _ piss me off sometimes.”

“This is important. We might die in there, so I wanted to tell you I’m not mad at you from last night,” he said. 

“Oh,” Draco replied, sounding a bit relieved. “Does that mean you’ll tell me now?”  _ He never gives up, does he?  _ Harry thought. 

“No.” 

“Do you really think I’m going to judge you? I have no right to, not after the things I’ve done.” 

“No. Well...yes actually; you’d judge me for sure. Listen Draco, somehow we’ve managed to make amends. I don’t want to ruin that. I don’t want to go back to hating you, or for you to go back to hating me, life is too short for hate.” 

Draco froze in his tracks and searched Harry’s face with very blue, very puzzled eyes. “Why would it make me hate you?” Harry cursed internally. 

“I’m not going to tell you! Can you please just respect that?!” Harry said a little too loud. 

“Hey, shut up and keep walking!” Arthur mouthed back at them. They rolled their eyes in unison, but piped down and started moving again. 

“Fine,” Draco uttered under his breath. Victory, at last. 

Between subconsciously checking Draco out in those pants, and glancing around to make sure no one had noticed him subconsciously checking Draco out in those pants, the time between their conversation and entering the castle flew by. There was an old wooden door on the outside of the wall, that’s where they entered. Arthur led them through the intricate layout of the halls and to the stairs near the dungeons. This was where they parted ways. 

In case this was the last time they saw each other, Harry hugged Ron and Hermione as tight as he could. “Good luck you guys,” he whispered to them. 

“You too mate. Stay alive,” Ron replied. They had no time to stick around and have a longer goodbye. They ran for the stairs with Merlin and Lancelot, while the rest of them continued down a hallway. 

It took no time for them to run into a group of guards, five of them, around the corner. They pressed their backs against the wall. 

“What should we do?” Gwaine asked under his breath. 

“We need to create a distraction. Harry and Draco should go,” Leon muttered. 

“Why us?” Harry asked. 

“Because, the King can’t see you. You’re escaped prisoners."

“Exactly,” Arthur concurred. They had a point. If the immortal soldiers weren’t going to kill them, Uther certainly would. 

“Fair enough. Come on Draco,” Harry said, beckoning for him to follow. Draco was hesitant, but he weighed his chances, and followed Harry. 

“Hey!” Harry shouted after turning the corner. “Get a load of this!” He shot a load of sparks at them, they were harmless, but it got their attention. The moment the sparks stopped, they bolted. Harry pumped his legs as fast as they could go. He had no idea where he was going. Hoping to confuse them, he rounded the corner, and shot a look behind him to make sure Draco had followed. He had, but he was a few paces behind. 

“Hurry up Draco, I know you can run faster than that!” It had the desired effect, causing Draco to pick up his speed so that he was neck and neck with Harry. 

“What do we do now?!” Draco shouted. 

“I don’t know!” Harry replied. Once again, he glanced over his shoulder. The soldiers weren't giving up. “Scratch that, keep running!” It killed him to say. His legs felt like they were on fire. 

“Here!” Draco took an incredibly sharp right. Harry nearly missed it, and when he tried to skid around the corner, he ended up falling to the ground. He landed so hard that his glasses flew off his face to god knows where. “Harry!” He heard Draco call. 

It was a race to see who could get to Harry first. He could see the five, blurry silhouettes of the soldiers gaining on him fast. Luckily, Draco reached him first. He chucked Harry’s glasses into his hands, and gave him no time to put them on as he tried to yank Harry to his feet by his shoulder, but his help only slowed Harry down. “What are you doing Pottah?! Get up!” He screamed. 

“I can’t see! Let go of me!” Harry yelled. He didn’t see the enemy soldier, and he didn’t see the serrated sword as it sliced into his calf. “AHHH!” He let out a blood curdling scream of agony. All of his progress was wiped away. He collapsed to the ground, losing his glasses again. He reached for his injury and felt warm blood soaking through his jeans. 

“ _ Flipendo!”  _ Draco cried. Harry heard five loud thuds as the soldiers hit the floor. Draco hastily retrieved his glasses and slid them onto Harry’s face. They were shattered in every sense of the word, but they allowed him to see Draco’s relieving eyes.

“They’re stalled but we don’t have much time.” He explained as he lifted Harry by the shoulder. Harry was shaking in incredible agony. He took one step, and if it weren’t for Draco, he would have fallen a third time. Every step sent a shockwave of eye watering pain through his entire leg. 

“Dammit!” Draco exclaimed once they were halfway down the corridor. “I thought it was a turn!” 

“What is it?” Harry heaved. 

“A dead end! I thought this alcove was another hallway!” 

“Well we can’t go back!” 

“I know! Just-just-we have to hide!” Draco pulled him into the alcove and tried leaning him against the wall. Harry couldn’t stand the weight on his leg anymore, he slumped to the ground. “What are you doing? You need to stand!” 

“I can’t, it hurts,” Harry whimpered. He wondered how much blood he had already lost. Draco kneeled in front of him, and through the cracks of his glasses, Harry could see his worried-sick expression. 

“Let me heal it,” He offered. 

“No, no, it’ll take too long. You have to leave me, it’s the only way you’ll survive,” Harry urged. 

“You must be delirious if you think I’d leave you here alone, Harry Potter,” Draco declared. Down the hall, Harry could hear the footsteps and shouts of the soldiers after them. 

“We’re going to die!” Harry huffed as the steps got closer. 

Harry didn’t know what came over him. Maybe it was the pain, the adrenaline, the fear, that overwhelmed him. Maybe it was the Gryffindor in him, tricking him to think that stupidity was bravery. Maybe it was the voice inside his head saying  _ it’s now or never, it’s now or never.  _ Maybe there was a lack of oxygen in his brain. Maybe it was the combination of all those things. He didn’t know. This plethora of intense emotions were jumbled up inside of him, causing every restraint he had to vanish. He wasn’t in control of his body anymore. He grabbed Draco’s face, and kissed him. 

*******

Merlin, Lancelot, Ron, and Hermione stepped out from the alcove they did in. The soldiers kept on, unaware of their presence. Out of nowhere, a strong ringing echoed in Merlin’s head. He paused, trying to locate where it came from. 

“Can you guys hear the ringing too?” Ron asked. He and Hermione covered their ears.

“I can, it must be the Cup’s power, ” he said. The ringing came from down the hall. “This way.” They began to walk, but a guard appeared from around the corner. Immediately, he engaged Lancelot in combat. 

Hermione whipped out her wand. “ _ Stupefy!”  _ The guard fell to the ground, paralyzed. Merlin shoved past Lancelot, and plunged  _ Excalibur  _ into his still chest. The soldier exploded into ash, earning impressed stares from Merlin’s companions. 

“What is that?” Lancelot asked.

“It was forged in a dragon’s breath,” he explained, feeling extra prideful at that moment. He ran off, leaving Lancelot stunned about what he’d said. Merlin followed the ringing, until they found the doors to the small throne room. Standing guard were four men, without Ron and Hermione, it would have been a tough fight. But the couple had them incopacitated before any sword fight could even begin. Merlin felt a bit bad exploding them, they had no way of defending themselves from the magic. However, for Arthur, he forced himself to put up with the guilt. 

Lancelot kicked in the doors, the four of them ran into the room, and they locked themselves inside. They were allowed a second of triumph before they realized there were six more soldiers guarding the cup.


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! First of all, I know it has nothing to do with this fic, but Destiel became sort of canon, which is pretty rad. Slow clap for that. Second of all, finals are coming up at my college, so time between uploads might take a bit longer. I hope you can understand. Thank you for reading, and let's get this show on the road!

“Go for the cup,” Lancelot said to Merlin. “We’ll deal with them.” 

The room transformed into a madhouse. The clang of metal against metal rang through the room, bursts of light shot from the wizards’ wands, and as Merlin dashed for the cup, he saw Lancelot’s shoulder blade be slashed. The brave knight he was, Lancelot kept fighting, however the wound proved to be too much for him. With Ron and Hermione busy, Merlin had to step in and abandon the Cup of Life. 

_ Excalibur  _ collided with the soldier’s weapon, sending a wave of pure force up Merlin’s arm. He was barely able to keep hold of the weapon. He took a chance. Merlin drew his sword back and threw out his arm, knocking the soldier back with a gust of magic. From there, Merlin made quick work of him. He made sure Lancelot was safe against the pillar he sat against before returning his attention to the dreaded goblet. 

He sprinted for the cup, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the door flinging open. Merlin snapped his head to see who had entered the room. Morgause was in the entrance, glowering at Merlin with a burning hatred. She opened her mouth to cast an incantation, but her eyes never flashed gold. 

“ _ Confringo!”  _ Ron flung her across the room like a rag doll. The crack of her skull as she crashed against a concrete pillar echoed across the room. Then, out of the corner of the room, Gaius hobbled out of the shadows. Merlin could not fathom how he’d managed to get past countless numbers of immortal soldiers, and sneak into the room without anyone noticing or without him dying.

“Merlin, the cup!” Gaius shouted, reminding Merlin of his goal. He grabbed  _ Excalibur  _ from the floor, and in one swift motion, knocked the blood from the Cup of Life. The thick red liquid dripped down the wall, officially marking the victory. 

“No!” Morgana ran into the room in a bright red dress. “No!” She knelt beside Morgause and took her into her lap. “Sister!” Morgana felt her pulse, and she broke down. She began to bawl over the blonde corpse. 

“It’s over Morgana,” Merlin said.

She looked at him through teary eyes. “You’re wrong! This has just begun!” She said through clenched teeth. “Antonin, the Cup!” Merlin whirled around to look for Dolohov. He was nowhere to be seen, but the Cup of Life vanished from where it laid on the ground, giving away Dolohov's location. “Give it to me!” Morgana ordered. 

“My fair lady, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take this for myself. It’s been a pleasure working with you, but this is where our alliance ends.” HE could not see him apparate, but Merlin’s gut told him Dolohov and the Cup were no longer there. This was devastating news for everyone in the room.

“No!” Morgana began to scream so loud, Merlin wouldn’t be surprised if Arthur heard from the dungeons. Her eyes flashed gold and the walls began to crumble around them. The floor began to shake and rubble began to fall from the ceiling, threatening to crush every soul trapped inside. As Hermione and Ron helped Lancelot to his feet, Merlin and Gaius ran for the exit. All of them struggled to stay upright as they attempted to flee to safety. 

**************

“Harry, what are you thinking?!” 

There it was. The disgust, the hate, the judgement Harry was so scared of. As Harry contemplated what he had just done, he was thankful they were about to die. At least he would be spared a lifetime of utter humiliation. 

“Now is not the time!” 

Draco shook his head at Harry in disapproval. He raised his wand and cast a wordless spell that lit the tip white. Right after Draco's wand dimmed, the soldiers found the alcove they were in. Harry scrunched his brow, why wasn’t Draco slapping him, or handing him over to the guards after his actions? 

“What the ‘ell is goin’ on here?” One of them asked the others. 

“They’ve disappeared!” Exclaimed a second one.

“But the blood ends right here!” Another one said, pointing right at Harry. Harry looked to Draco with a perplexed gaze. Draco covered his own mouth and held his breath. Harry copied. Just when his lungs were beginning to burn, the soldiers glanced around at each other like lost children, then gave up and left. Harry could see the pros and cons of this. He wasn’t going to lose his life, that was a plus. However, now he couldn’t escape what he’d just done. He thought about apparating someplace where he could curl into a ball and seize to exist, but decided that was immature, as tempting as it was. 

Draco uncovered his mouth and undid whatever spell he’d cast to hide them from the soldiers. He and Harry sat in awkward silence for what felt like hours. It was only five minutes. 

“Uh, neat trick there,” Harry mumbled after the quiet became too much to handle.

“Thanks. It was, um, the Disillusionment Charm.” 

“Smart. Hermione did that once.” 

Another drag of dead air. Harry was too embarrassed to say another word. 

“That was premature, don’t you think?” Draco finally asked. 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

“Your said we were going to die. Way to jump to conclusions, Potter,” Draco said. His tone was strange. It wasn’t angry, or put off, it was teasing. 

“Sorry,” Harry murmured.

“Don’t be.” Draco said so fast he almost interrupted him. 

Harry went slack jawed. That was the  _ last  _ reaction he’d been expecting. It was only then, Harry remembered he was bleeding out of his leg, and that they were in the middle of an important quest. An honest discussion about their feelings would have to wait until later. 

“Let me take care of that now.” Draco pointed his wand at Harry’s leg and said, “ _ Vulnera Sanentur.”  _ The flesh sealed together, it would leave a nasty scar, but the bleeding and most of the pain subsided. 

“Should we aparate somewhere safer?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t think so. Arthur knows we came this way, if we leave he won’t be able to find us. I think it’s safer here than most places in the city anyways. We’ll just have to stay quiet and not draw attention to ourselves,” Draco explained. Sit there and stare at Draco? Harry could get down with that. He had a pretty face. Draco, on the other hand, had different ideas.

“Besides.” He eyed Harry’s lips with hesitation. “You’ve given me an idea on how to pass the time.” Harry’s soul full-on fled his body. This couldn’t be real. Yet, Draco took a shaky breath and inched closer. They were centimeters away, and sensitive goosebumps covered every inch of Harry’s skin. His heart began to beat like a timpani drum every time he felt Draco’s warm breath on his face. He felt the very tip of Draco’s upper lip brush against his, and that was the cue to close his eyes. 

“Uh-huh-huh-hum!”

Somebody coughed to alert their presence, startling them so bad they bumped their heads together. As Harry rubbed his now sore forehead, he opened his eyes and saw Sir Leon gawking at them with a look that said “kill me now”. He was so red, he matched his cape. Honestly, Harry didn’t know who was more embarrassed, them or Leon (it was a tie). Draco fell back to the otherside of the alcove, blushing a cute fuschia. 

“Prince Arthur instructed me to come find you guys. The fight is over. We won.” Leon explained, attempting to sound like he’d seen nothing. It wasn’t working. 

“Did you find the King?” Harry asked. 

“Yes. King Uther is being taken to his chambers. We’re to regroup with the other knights and try to find Merlin, Sir Lancelot, and your friends.” 

“Sure thing,” replied Harry. He and Draco got up, giving each other a wide berth to spare them all from any more discomfort.

When they returned, Gwaine was the first to say something. “Sir Leon, you look like you’ve been traumatized.” 

“You have no idea.” 

*********

Arthur sat across from his father, watching him as he stared out the window. He’d never seen his father like this. Uther’s eyes were lost, like he tried and failed to cope with what Morgana had done, so he shut down instead. His hair was tussled, his face was filthy, and he hadn’t moved a muscle when servants came in presenting clean attire. He was a shell. A cold, hard, empty shell. 

Arthur heard the door open and shut, and he heard Merlin’s footsteps. “Arthur.” His voice relieved Arthur of some sadness, but not all of it.

“What Merlin?” Arthur replied in a depressed tone. He couldn’t be happy while looking at his father. 

“You’ve been here for hours. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

“I’m fine Merlin, thanks for asking.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

“Takes one to know one.”

Merlin rested a gentle hand on Arthur’s shoulder. His knuckles brushed against his neck, causing chills to rush through his body. “Come on,” Merlin said. “Let’s get some fresh air.” Arthur grimaced, he wasn’t in the mood to stand up. Merlin noticed his reluctance and said, “That’s not a request. Get up.” 

  
  
  


\----------

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Arthur said. They sat on the stairs in front of the doors to the castle. The sun was bright, making Merlin’s hair seem glossier than usual. “He was invisible, there’s nothing you could have done.” 

“It was in my reach, Arthur. It would have taken me ten seconds to grab.” Merlin was lamenting to him about Dolohov getting the Cup, and while it was a great loss, he hated it when Merlin punished himself so hard. He was only a servant, what could he have possibly done?

“You were distracted. We were all distracted. And hope hasn’t been lost, he’s still stuck here like the rest of the wizards,” Arthur reminded him. “Without you, we wouldn’t be here right now. You gave me the courage to keep going in that cave, you helped Lancelot empty the Cup of Life: you’re a hero, Merlin, don’t let one mistake distract you from that.” 

The sparkly-eyed look Merlin gave him made his heart explode. It was dangerous, because all Arthur wanted was to lean down and wipe that pretty smile off his face with a kiss. It made him forget that the courtyard was booming with activity, and that Merlin was the farthest thing from a princess that you could find. 

“Don’t let it go to your head. It was a once off, and you’re still an awful servant. I mean, have you seen the state of these boots?” He asked, gesturing to the grime. 

It was crushing to see his expression fall, but it was for the best. “Yeah,” replied Merlin. 

“Well go and get something to clean them,” Arthur ordered. 

“Why?” Merlin asked. “They’re your boots.” 

That cheeky little bastard. “Have you lost your mind?” Arthur asked. 

Merlin responded with a stupid, coy, smirk. “I thought you believed in equality.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“At the round table you said-” 

“Shut up, Merlin.” But he was right. Arthur wouldn’t say it, but to keep to his word, he’d go easier on the chores from there on out. He nudged Merlin gently, just to evoke another one of his smiles. He pondered the consequences of what would happen if he decided to wrap his arm around Merlin, pull him in, and let Merlin’s head rest on his shoulder: there were too many. 

“How’s your father?” Merlin asked, putting a damper on the mood. 

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted. Uther hadn’t said a word to him since he’d been freed from prison. “All this-Morgana-it’s hit him hard.” There was a long pause before Merlin responded.

“Perhaps we’re heading for a new time. You may need to take charge, become…” he hesitated. “Become king.” The thought twisted Arthur’s gut like a ribbon. He didn’t feel like he was ready, and he didn’t want his father to be that far gone. 

“Who knows what the future will bring,” he said. 

“Whatever it is,” Merlin said softly. “I’ll be by your side. Always.”

Arthur said nothing. He didn’t need to. He glanced around, checking that no one was watching them. When he was certain, he rested his hand on Merlin’s knee. Merlin then rested his own hand on Arthur’s, and their fingers interlaced. It was so subtle, yet he’d never felt such an intimate touch. In the distance, Gwen and the newly inducted knights rode into the courtyard, their capes and hair flowing majestically in the wind. In his chest, Arthur felt newfound jubilation. If this was the future, then it was bright. 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry this chapter is a day late. I lost the charger to my computer and had to wait until today to charge it. Anyways, thats all. Thanks for reading!

Merlin, Arthur, and Gaius, hadn’t come back to the Physician’s Chambers in hours. The castle was so hectic that nobody was paying too much attention to anything but the carnage, making it quite easy for them to hide out in Gaius's room for the time being. But that was the least of Draco’s worries. Harry was pacing back and forth, occasionally glancing over at Draco and blushing scarlet. Draco sat at a table far away from him, watching every move of his like a hawk.

By the looks on their faces, Draco knew that Granger and Weasley suspected something had gone down between them. When Granger had fixed Harry’s glasses, he didn’t even look her in the eye. They had been tiptoeing around them, whispering to each other about them, and eyeing them with judgement. To be honest, Draco was contempt to sit there and pretend like nothing happened. He wouldn’t be able to handle it when Harry inevitably approached him and told him it was a mistake. 

“Hey,” Harry came towards him. “I think we need to speak, privately.” This was it. This was when Harry was going to reject him, tell Draco he could never be with somebody like him: somebody with his past. At least he was going to keep it between them. 

“Where can we go that’s private?” Draco asked. The whole castle was on high alert after this whole Cup of Life fiasco. Maybe they could talk in the broom cupboard, but Granger and Weasley were nosey, they would eavesdrop. 

“The roof perhaps? We’ll use a Disillusionment Charm if we want to be extra incognito. It’s quite handy in a tough spot, so I’ve learned,” Harry said. 

“Sure. Granger, Weasley, if Gaius or anyone comes back, cover for us,” Draco said. They nodded in agreement. Draco then grabbed his wand and before they knew it, he and Harry were invisible to the naked eye. 

They didn’t speak on the way up in order to keep guards from hearing them. They didn’t speak when they got there either. As they looked out over the sunlight city, Draco got the weirdest feeling that he’d been there before. Apparently he wasn’t alone.

“Creepy. I’m having  Déjà vu ,” Harry said. Draco sighed. He didn't want to pretend that everything was normal. 

“Let’s skip the small talk Harry,” Draco said. “Tell me you weren’t thinking straight, that it was in the heat of the moment, that it meant- that you felt nothing. Get it over with.” 

“Is that what you want me to say?” 

“I don’t know.” Draco leaned over the wall and ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I’d be lying."

Draco shook his head no, a large lump formed in his throat. “I don’t believe you.”

Harry touched his shoulder gingerly. “Why?” Draco spun around and brushed his hand away.

“Because…” This was Harry Potter, Saviour of the World, Hogwarts’s Golden Boy, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, and Draco; Draco was the most hated eighteen year old in the wizarding world. “Look at this Harry!” He rolled back his sleeve and pointed to the Dark Mark on his forearm. “I don’t deserve you!” A single tear ran down his cheek. Harry’s eyes melted with pity, what a sad sight Draco must have been. Harry grabbed his arm and rolled down his sleeve, refusing to even look at it. Then he laid a hand on Draco’s face and wiped away the salty liquid, confirming what Draco had said. 

Harry pushed back his hair, and pointed to his faded lightning bolt scar. “This doesn’t define who I am. And that certainly doesn’t define you. Not to me.” Harry drew him in for a hug so close, so tight, that Draco had no choice but to believe every word out of his mouth. 

“Draco,” he said after pulling away. “Do you want to know what I saw in the Mirror of Erised?” Draco nodded with fervor. Harry bit his lip with uncertainty, but went ahead with the confession. 

“It was you.” Harry whispered. “I saw you, and me, holding hands. At first I thought it was broken, but now I know it wasn’t. I like you, Draco, and despite all logic, I’m attracted to you, I-I want to be with you. Maybe it won’t work, maybe the world won’t approve, but I want to give us a try. I’d regret it forever if we didn’t.” A good chunk of it was rambling, but he got the message across. At first, Draco wasn’t sure how to process this information. It had gone in one ear and out the other, but somehow it cliqued. Harry liked him; like, like-liked him. Pure glee exploded like a bomb inside of Draco, bringing his tears to a halt. He began to smile so hard his cheeks hurt, and all he wanted to do was dance around the roof like a madman. 

“I want to try too,” Draco replied. This time, Sir Leon wasn’t there to ruin the mood. Harry snaked his fingers through Draco’s hair, and kissed him without hesitation. Draco felt the exact same fireworks as he had in that alcove; but now, he could savor them. 

******** 

Harry started with slow, gentle kisses. He felt that rushing would somehow scare him away. He didn’t mind, it gave him the chance to take everything into account, not just the powerful explosions in his chest. Kissing Draco was like that first bite of a New York Peppermint Patty. It tasted like a iced coffee mixed with cream. It felt like running your fingers through silk. Draco’s hands on the small of his back made him feel safe, comforted. It was the greatest Harry had felt in ages. And even though he was glad to keep it all light and breezy, he didn’t mind when Draco pushed him up against the stone, or when he began to tug at his shirt, or when tongue was introduced into the equation. He didn’t mind when he lost track of time. This was years of pent up sexual tension being released, what was he going to do? Check his watch? 

“What will your friends say?” Draco gasped in between kisses. 

“Who says they have to know?” 

Draco chuckled deviously against his lips. It was, perhaps, the hottest thing Harry had ever experienced. “It’ll stay our dirty little secret then.” He breathed, causing Harry to shudder from head to toe. They would have stayed there smoochin’ for hours, but like always, responsibilities had to ruin their fun. 

“How long have we been gone?” Draco asked, resting their foreheads together. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Maybe that’s a sign we should get back. They might get worried about you.” 

“What will we tell them we were doing for so long?” 

“We’ll just have to make it up.”

*******

“Where are Harry and Draco?” Merlin asked. He looked around the room, only Ron, Hermione, and Gaius were there. He began to panic, if they had gone to the tavern again, Arthur just might explode: Merlin would be the buffer. 

“We don’t know, they left so long ago that Gaius came back before them,” Ron said. Right as Merlin was about to meltdown with stress, loud footsteps came echoing down the stairs. Harry and Draco burst into the room, both looking unraveled from the collar up. 

“Where were you guys?!” Merlin exclaimed. “Do you know how much trouble I-you would be in if you hadn’t come back in time?” 

“Sorry,” Harry replied, refusing to look any of them in the eye. “We got lost track of time, um, talking.” 

“Yes, well, don’t do it again. Arthur is going to be busy for the rest of the day, so it’s up to me to figure out what the hell we’re going to do next.” 

“As we should,” Ron said. “Since Dolohov has the Cup of Life, he doesn’t need the Deathly Hallows anymore. That Cup is a sure fire way to bring Voldemort back, because unlike the Hallows, he knows it will work. All he has to do is find a way back to the future, and from there he’s bound to accomplish his goal.” 

“And finding a way to our time may very well be impossible,” Hermione said. “The incident with the Time-Turner was a strange fluke, but plausible. As far as I know, there has never been a single recorded instance of anyone traveling forward in time: ever. He’s just as stuck as we are, and you can’t revive someone who hasn’t been born.” 

Out of nowhere, the hair on the back of Merlin’s neck jutted up, and a strong shiver ran down his spine, thrusting him out of the conversation. He whirled around to find a cloaked figure in the doorway, staring at Merlin with sunken eyes. Merlin recognized him as Suilean, the druid from the Cave of Reflection. He looked around, wondering if anyone else could see Suilean, but they seemed ignorant to his presence. 

_ “I am but an illusion Emrys. Do not be afraid.”  _ Merlin sighed, he hated it when they whispered into his head. “ _ You are on the brink of failure. Dolohov has the Cup of Life, and unless you act with haste, he will indeed find a way to return to his time and undo everything Harry Potter and his companions have worked so hard to accomplish. Come to the Forest of Ascetir at midnight. We will discuss this further there. Come alone.”  _

“Wait!” Merlin exclaimed, but it was too late, he vanished. All the others turned their attention to him, judgement in their eyes. 

“Who are you talking to?” Hermione asked. 

“S-Suilean. No one else saw him?” 

Harry’s eyes widened at Suilean’s name. “The druid seer from the Cave of Reflection?” 

“Yes, he was right there in the doorway. He wishes to speak to me tonight, he says that Dolohov will find a way to get to the future unless we stop him.” 

“That’s awfully convenient of him,” Draco said. “And you believe this mysterious invisible druid?” 

“Absolutely. The druids have no reason to lie or intervene unless it’s important. Besides, if there’s a chance for a lead, we need to take it.” 

“Sure, but-" 

All of a sudden, a guard appeared in the doorway. The wizards quickly disappeared from the room, likely apparating somewhere else so the guard didn't see them. 

"The Prince has requested Merlin's presence in his chambers," he said. 

"What? But Arthur just let me go." 

"He has more work for you. I must escort you to his chambers." 

Merlin sighed. He would never get a break, would he? 

"Alright, alright, one minute." Merlin went over to Gaius so he could speak without the guard hearing. "I have to meet Suilean at midnight: alone. Watch the kids and make sure they don't do anything foolish. Hopefully I'll see you later, if my new workload isn't very heavy." 

"I'll keep a close eye on them, don't worry. I think you should worry more about keeping the Prince waiting too long." Gaius gestured to the guard, who was getting more impatient by the second. 

"You have a point. Goodbye, Gaius, I'll see you soon." 

*******

It was dark out. Uther had lost track of time, but if he had to guess, midnight was rearing its head. But that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the black pit of despair eating away at his soul. 

After decades of subduing magic and the evildoers who used it, it had still managed to creep into his castle and destroy all he held dear: to destroy his daughter. The only thing he was capable of was staring out the window, lost in his miserable thoughts. 

He knew his state was tough on Arthur. The boy had already been there three times that day, trying to get Uther to converse with him, but the King could not muster the strength to speak. It broke him to see Arthur lose hope in him, but he couldn't help it. He was a weakling now.

When he heard footsteps behind him, he assumed it was a guard coming to check on him. Uther made no movements. 

"Your majesty." The voice was familiar. It was devious, mocking; definitely not a guard. "Pardon my candor, but you look like shit." In any other circumstance, Uther would have this fool beheaded, but he couldn't even find the energy to condemn him. 

"My, my. What a pitiful sight you are, Uther. It's a real shame what Morgana has done to you. What she  _ will _ do to you, to your kingdom...to your son, over these next few years." This caused Uther to glance over his shoulder with perplexed eyes. Antonin Dolohov stood behind him with a cocky smirk plastered on his face. What could he possibly know about what Morgana will do? 

"I bet you're wondering how I know what Morgana will do," Dolohov continued, taking slow, cautious steps toward Uther. "So I'll tell you. I'm from the future." 

This was enough for Uther to snap out of his trance, if only for a little while. Dolohov was insane. 

"Guards!" Uther called, voice raspy. 

"There's no need," Dolohov said. "They're taking a nice little nap out in the hallway. Besides, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help you." 

"How could you possibly help me?" 

"I know things about this castle, about people in this castle, that you yourself will never find out during your life in Camelot. I know how you will die, I know how Arthur will die, I know how Camelot will fall into fairytale and legend. I cannot tell you everything, but I can reveal a secret that will save your son from falling even further into the clutches of magic than he already is." 

Uther knew he shouldn't listen. He knew that every word out of the sorcerer's mouth was laced with venom and lies, but curiousity got the best of him. 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean that if you don't intervene now, you'll lose another child to sorcery. Is that what you want?" 

Uther shook his head no. He was still puzzled, though. "Why are you trying to help me when you yourself have magic?" 

"Believe it or not, I have no wishes to hurt Camelot. I wish to return home and save the world. But there are obstacles in my way. We have the same enemy, Uther. We should work together to be rid of him." 

Uther took the bait. As much as he hated magic, this was his son's safety at stake. "Who is he?" 

"Arthur's serving boy: Merlin." 

At first, Uther couldn't believe his ears. Merlin was a bumbling idiot of a servant, the last person who fit the description of a sorcerer. But then he remembered Aredian, and how despite his faults, he'd found Merlin to be guilty of witchcraft; of the time Merlin had literally confessed to using magic to save that wench's father (Uther forgot her name), only for Arthur to dismiss his claims; of all the times Merlin had survived life threatening situations, while Knights of Camelot died. Was it really so hard to believe that Merlin had been putting on a show all these years while he was poisoning Arthur with his magic? Those with magic were crafty, natural born liars, able to put on a front to avoid being caught; then again, Dolohov had magic too, he could be lying. 

"And why should I trust a word out of your mouth?" 

"Why believe me when you could find out for yourself? Search his chambers. I'm sure you'll find all the evidence you need." 

"How-how do you know all this?" 

"Like I said. I'm from the future." With that, he vanished into thin air. Uther weighed the consequences in his head. On one hand, he could choose not to believe this murderous lunatic, and let Merlin be. On the other hand, Uther could allow a potential sorcerer to remain at Arthur’s side, corrupting his soul and mind. The choice was obvious. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

So Uther, for the first time in hours, rose to his feet and hobbled towards the door. If Dolohov was honest, and Merlin had managed to deceive the whole of Camelot for years, Uther would have his head himself. 


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! To start off, I want to apologize that it's taken so long for me to update the story. I was really busy with finals, and moving back home from college, and transfer applications, and writers block that this fic had to go on the back burner for a bit. But I hope that I can finish the last few chapters within the next month or so. Thank you for your patience!

The Forest of Ascetir was vast. It didn’t help that it was just about midnight, and that Merlin couldn’t see three feet in front of him in such blackness. He wound up using a light spell to navigate. It had been ages since he’d been to this druid camp, and he hardly remembered the way. He found himself backtracking far too often, and pausing far too long at the forks in the road. Merlin was lucky to find his destination, even if by accident. He brought his horse to the center of a clearing with a familiar feel to it, and not long after, a shadowy figure emerged from the treeline. 

“Emrys,” he said. “Welcome. I know it’s late, but I’m sure you’ll soon thank me for arranging our meeting at this hour.” 

“Um, okay. It’s good to see you, Suilean,” Merlin replied as he dismounted. 

“Likewise. Now, we must speak quickly before we’re interrupted.” 

“Alright,” Merlin said, cocking an eyebrow and tilting his head. “What do you want to tell me about Dolohov? You said he has a way to get back to his time?” 

“Yes, he will figure out how to return. He knows about the Crystal Cave and where it is, as well as the fact that it has a great deal to do with time magic. He’ll arrive tomorrow at dusk-” 

“Hold on, he knows about the Crystal Cave? How? He’s never been to Camelot before.” 

“You told him, Emrys.” This took Merlin by surprise. He felt like he would remember it if he’d given an evil sorcerer the location of such a sacred place. 

“Seeing that you won’t remember this, I suppose I could tell you. In the future, you’ll write a series of journals about your triumphs during your life. The Crystal Cave is one of them. That’s how he knows where it is. Moving on, if things go wrong, he’ll learn about a ritual that a group of high priestesses once used to send themselves forward in time. Your last chance to stop him will be at the Lake of Avalon. If you fail-” 

Suilean was interrupted again, this time, by a distant shout from the woods. 

“Merlin!” The voice cried. 

“Ah, they’re here, which means it’s my cue to leave. I know this meeting was short, but you have all the information you need. Get to the Crystal Cave. Stop him.” 

“Merlin!” The voice was louder, closer; it sounded like Ron Weasley. Merlin glanced in that direction, and when he looked back at Suilean, the seer was gone. 

“Wait!” Merlin called. There had to be more to know. 

“Is that you Merlin?” Ron’s footsteps became audible. 

“Yeah, I’m over here!” He answered. A million questions raced through his head: why was he out here? Did Gaius know Ron was here? Were the others there too? 

“Oh thank goodness! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” The first thing Merlin saw was Ron’s flaming red hair. The kid ran over, completely panicked. 

“What’s going on? Why are you here? How did you get here?” 

“I’ll explain everything, just a moment.” Ron raised his wand, and shot a barrage of red sparks into the night sky. “Things are bloody bad back in Camelot. We don’t know how, but Uther knows you have magic and he found the spellbook hidden in your room. There’s a warrant for your immediate arrest. Gaius told us where you were so we could apparate here and tell you not to return home. We split up to search the forest for you, I’ve been looking forever.” 

Merlin was speechless, numb. The only things he felt were the way his heart stopped and the way his stomach sank like an anchor. There was no sound, or smell, and his vision went blurry. His worst nightmare had come true. He would be on the run for the rest of his life; Arthur probably hated him. Merlin ran his fingers through his hair, gripping at the roots, and violent sobs began to rack his body. 

“Arthur…how did he react?” He managed to say, voice trembling. 

“I’m not sure. He came to Gaius’s quarters, asked if we knew where you were, and then said if we do to tell you to get as far away from Camelot as possible. He was stone-cold the entire time. I’m sorry mate, I know you guys really cared for each other.” 

This wasn’t real. None of this could be real. He was going to wake up in five seconds, and everything was going to be fine. But he never woke up. Merlin was still stuck in this forest, using every bit of strength he had to keep from collapsing to the ground. 

“Hey.” Somehow, sometime, Draco and Harry had joined them. Merlin didn’t know when they’d arrived there, and he couldn’t look at them. “Everything alright?” Harry asked, reaching out and touching Merlin’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Merlin rasped. “Everything is splendid, thanks for asking.” 

“Honestly Harry,” Draco muttered. “Don’t ask such stupid questions.” Harry glared sharply at him, and moments later, Hermione arrived at the clearing. She took one look at him, and pity filled her eyes. 

“Oh Merlin, I’m so s-” 

“I have to go to the Crystal Cave in the Valley of Fallen Kings,” Merlin interrupted, wiping his tears and trying to stuff everything deep down. “That’s where Dolohov is going to be. You’re all welcome to come with me, but we should leave this instant.” 

“Hold on, if you need some time to-” Hermione tried to say, but once again Merlin cut her off. 

“There is no time. I’ll deal with everything after you’re back where you belong.” He marched towards his horse, and just as he was about to lift himself into the saddle, Hermione spoke once more. 

“Of course we’re going with you,” She said. “But I promised Gaius I would tell him where you were once we found you. I’ll only be gone a minute.” 

“Yeah, alright, just be quick,” Merlin replied. So Hermione vanished, or “apparated”, into thin air. 

“We should apparate,” Draco said a moment after she was gone.

“Yeah, and why’s that?” Ron said, his tone made it obvious he was going to argue anything that came out of Draco’s mouth. 

“Watch it,” Harry snapped at Ron, earning a flabbergasted look in return. 

“What is up with you mate? When did you decide you were going to choose Malfoy over your best friend?” 

“I don’t know, Ron. When did you decide you were going to be a rude git about everything he says? He made a simple suggestion, he didn’t ask to murder your family.” 

Merlin interrupted before the argument could get any worse. “Why do you think we should apparate?” The blonde was watching Harry with a strange expression; something close to warmth, but Merlin had never seen such an emotion on Draco’s face, so he assumed he was seeing things. 

“Well, if getting to the Crystal Cave is as urgent as you think it is we can’t waste time trekking across Camelot when only one of us has a horse. All we have to do is wait for Granger to return and then we can go.” Merlin raised his eyebrows with intrigue, apparation sounded much better than traveling on foot. His horse knew the way to Camelot, so he wouldn’t have to worry about that. He’d just have to get a new one wherever he went to begin again. 

“That sounds like a smart idea. Let’s do it.” So he let go of the horse’s saddle, then grabbed some necessities like water and bread. “Goodbye, girl,” he whispered as he stroked it’s neck. “You’ve been a wonderful companion, but it’s time we part ways for good. If you ever get the chance, make sure to give Uther a big kick in the stomach for me. Now off you go.” He gave it a gentle slap on the rear, and it trotted off in the direction of home. Merlin stared after it with sullen eyes. He found it strange, how easily everything had been ripped away from him.

“I’m back.” Hermione’s voice startled him. “Where’s your horse?” 

“We’ve decided to apparate,” Harry explained. “It’ll be quicker.” 

“Oh, alright. I suppose that’s the efficient way to do it. Should we be on our way then?” 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Ron said. So Hermione laid a hand on Merlin, and with a crack, they disappeared into the night.

This was how Merlin discovered he hated apparition. It was perhaps the most uncomfortable sensation in the world. He felt like he was being pushed against from every single possible angle, like his eyes were about to burst out the back of his skull, like his lungs were bellows being squeezed down. When it ended, he was on the verge of vomiting all over his shoes. If anything, it was an adequate distraction from the complete despair of losing everything he cared about. 

“That was awful!” Merlin said, swaying with nausea. 

“Be glad you didn’t splinch,” said Ron. Merlin wasn’t sure he wanted to know what that was. 

“Merlin, do you know where we are in the Valley?” Harry asked. 

“I’m still seeing double of everything, you’ll have to give me a moment.” Hermione patted his shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort. As she did, all he could think was how much he regretted not going on horseback. 

Eventually, the vertigo waned and Merlin could see in a straight line. He looked around, they were near the blackened patch of forest the wizards had come from. Merlin had been to the Valley of Fallen Kings far too many times for his liking, so he knew which direction the Crystal Cave was from that spot. 

“The cave is southeast of here,” Merlin said, taking a wobbly step forward. “Let’s go.” 

********

“Weasley,” Draco said, trying to catch up with the redhead. He knew Weasley could hear him, he also knew Weasley was purposefully ignoring him. “Weasley, I want to talk.” Still, nothing. “Ron!” That was all it took for him to glance over his shoulder at Draco with irritation. 

“What do you want Malfoy?” 

“I want to talk.”

“About what?”

“About us.” 

“Us?” Weasley gave him the most confused look. 

“Yes. Weasley, you and I have been fighting for as long as I can remember. I just feel like it’s time to put it all behind us.” 

He raised an eyebrow, like he suspected Draco of lying. “Are you mental? What makes you think I’ll just forget everything you put us through for the past eight years?” Draco glared at him, this was going to be harder than he thought. 

“If you want to be an immature prat, you can, but I’m only leaving once you hear what I have to say,” Draco said. 

“Listen, I know I was an awful person for the majority of our education together. I know I did and said things to you, to Hermione, and to Harry that should never be forgiven. But I like to believe I’ve changed, if even a little. I want to leave the child I was behind and become a new person, but I can’t do that if I’m holding onto grudges. And Harry is my...friend now, believe it or not, and I care about him: I want him to be happy. I know he values you more than anyone in the world, and I think it would make him happy if we could get along just a little.” 

Weasley’s face was contemplative, his gait had slowed to the point where he walked beside Draco. He wasn’t interrupting, so Draco continued. 

“I’m not suggesting we be best friends or anything. I’m not even suggesting we be friends. I’m merely suggesting that we find a way to be near each other without insulting, or arguing with each other every five seconds. If not for us, then for Harry.” 

With that, Draco summed up everything he’d been feeling since their idiotic fight about whether to apparate or not. Weasley was still quiet, quiet enough to make Draco nervous. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he said after a long silence. “But I actually agree with you.” A genuine smile stretched across Draco’s face. “I do want Harry to be happy, he’s my best mate, you know? And if that means putting up with you sometimes, I guess I can do that. Besides, I have been a bit more of a prat to you than you’ve been a prat to me since we’ve gotten here. I apologize.”

In all truthfulness, Draco had not expected for this to go so well. “What do you say,” Draco said, extending his hand. “Reluctant acquaintances?”

Weasley nodded yes with a thin smile, and grabbed Draco’s hand. “Reluctant acquaintances.” Just then, Harry looked behind at Draco and Ron. He saw them shaking hands and his expression turned rather alarmed. 

“Talk to you later, Ron,” Draco said. He then walked away so he could be next to Harry. 

“What were you talking about?” Harry asked, still perplexed. 

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Draco glanced around: Ron was walking with Hermione, Merlin was leading the way, head hung, no one was watching them. It was dark too, which meant nobody noticed when Draco took Harry’s pinky in his own, and Harry grinned at Draco like he was the world, like no one had ever grinned at Draco before. 


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To make up for such a long absence, I'm posting an extra chapter this week. Here it is!

When they neared the cave, Merlin instructed the wizards to be silent. If Dolohov was lurking nearby, they couldn’t give away their location. It was quite difficult to find the well hidden entrance without Taliesin’s guidance, especially at night, but with a pinch of muscle memory and a heap of luck, he managed to find the legendary cave. 

“Is this it?” Harry whispered as they descended the slope to the black hole. 

“Yes, I think so,” Merlin replied. Just as he was about to enter, a robed silhouette emerged from the cave. 

“Welcome, Emrys, it has been some time, hasn’t it?” He said. 

“Taliesin! I am so glad to see you! Are you alright?” Merlin was relieved to find a friendly face instead of Dolohov’s. 

“I’m safe, for now. Antonin Dolohov has yet to reach the Crystal Cave, but he is not far behind you. Quick, you must hide in the cave before he arrives.” Merlin trusted Taliesin, so he ventured into the cave with no hesitation and beckoned for the others to follow. 

“It’s alright,” Merlin said. “He’s on our side.” They weren’t as eager as he was, but they followed anyways. 

“Emrys,” Taliesin said as they trekked to the main cavern. “When Dolohov gets here, no matter what he does to me, you must not emerge from hiding. You must let him come and go without attacking him, no matter how much you might want to.” 

“Why? What’s your plan?” 

“I’ll tell you everything after everything is said and done. For now, you must do what I say without question.” 

They arrived in the crystal part of the cave, and even though he’d been there before, it took Merlin’s breath away. Hundreds of gems glimmered in the pale moonlight, each one different from the next. A feeling of tranquility, of magic surged over him like a powerful wave. He felt like he was one with the cave. 

“The birthplace of magic,” Hermione said. “I can’t believe it.” She and the others seemed to be overwhelmed by the sheer amount of power they felt from merely standing in the cave. They froze in place, looking around with wonder filled eyes. 

“Come on,” Merlin said, grabbing Ron and dragging him towards the darkest part of the cave. “We have to hide, all of us. And be careful not to look into any of the crystals for too long.” 

“What happens if we look into the crystals for too long?” Harry asked as he, Draco, and Hermione followed after Merlin. 

“Trust me, you do not want to find out,” Merlin said, ducking behind a large rock. They crowded together in that little corner, and Merlin peeked out to make sure he had a good view of Taliesin and the cave. Taliesin was barely in his eyeline, but there was no chance to move. The old druid had been right to rush them. Heavy footsteps echoed through off the stone walls, getting closer and closer by the second. 

Dolohov entered the cavern, black clothing tattered and dirty from days of non-stop travel, hair even messier than when Merlin had first seen him, injured foot still weak from a lack of proper medical attention. He was in much worse shape than the other wizards, which was promising to see. 

“Taliesin, correct?” Dolohov asked, attempting to flash a charming smile. 

“I am him,” Taliesin said, chin held high. 

“Then I must be in the right place. Let’s not waste time, Taliesin. I’m here for a very specific reason. I learned from a woman named Morgause that there was once a ritual involving the Crystal Cave, a ritual that could send you forward in time. I desperately need to learn that ritual, and since you’re somewhat of a guardian to this cave, I was hoping you know the ritual I’m speaking of.” 

“I do. But the Ritual of Time is nothing to take lightly, the last high priestesses to try it went insane,” Taliesin said. Ritual of Time? That was quite on the nose, Merlin thought. 

“I don’t care, it’s a risk I’m willing to take. I have to get back shortly, I created a distraction for the people after me, but I’m sure they’ll be back on my trail soon. Now tell me, how do I perform this ritual?” 

“You truly believe you can handle it?” 

“I do.” 

“Then I shall give it to you. You appear to be trustworthy.” 

Merlin’s mouth dropped: was Taliesin betraying them? No, this had to be part of the plan, there was no other explanation. He looked at the others to gage their reactions, they all seemed ready to jump out and attack with their wands. 

“Stay put!” Merlin mouthed. Just in case, he snatched their wands from their hands so they couldn’t use them. They glowered at him, but he didn’t care, he wouldn’t risk everything after they’d gotten this far. 

“First, you must travel to the Lake of Avalon. The Lake is incredibly powerful, and the only place ever discovered that transcends time and death. When you get there, you must know the exact year, day, and minute you wish to travel to. Then, you must recite an incantation that goes like this-” 

“Hold on,” Dolohov interrupted. He reached into his jacket, then pulled out a tattered piece of parchment. He held his wand like a quill, and nodded for Taliesin to continue. 

“As I was saying, the incantation goes like this: Mystice quis lacus sum mitte me somnos tempus anni (say the year and month),” he paused, allowing Dolohov to jot down the words. “Mensem, diem (say the day and hour) horariis et minutis (say the minute). Excitare, et salvum me clara futura videantur.” 

Dolohov finished writing it down, then folded the paper and put it back in his jacket. “What comes next?” 

“After you do the spell, you must act with haste. If you’re not fully submerged in the water within a minute, the spell will fail. You only have one chance to do the ritual. If you mess up, the Lake will cease to work, and you’ll be trapped here forever.” 

“Is that all?” 

“It is. Do you understand what you must do?” 

“Completely. Now,” Dolohov withdrew his wand. “I appreciate your help, but I’m afraid I can’t let Harry Potter and his lackeys learn of this ritual.  _ Avada Kedavra!”  _ A burst of emerald light erupted from Dolohov’s wand, hitting an unprepared Taliesin square in the chest. Quiet gasps escaped from the young wizards. Merlin, on the other hand, didn’t know what the big deal was. The spell hadn’t done anything to Taliesin. 

“Young man,” Taliesin said, calm as can be. “You cannot kill the dead, as hard as you may try.” Dolohov’s eyes widened with awe, and like a coward, he apparated out of the cave before he could face the consequences of what he’d done. 

“You can come out, Emrys,” Taliesin said. “He won’t be back.” They rose from their hiding place. The moment Draco got to his feet, he took his wand from Merlin and charged at Taliesin, his face twisted with fury. 

“You snake!” He exclaimed. “You told him what to do! You destroyed everything!” 

“Mr Malfoy, I did not tell him what to do. Please lower your wand so I can explain.” 

Merlin nodded in agreement and forced Draco’s arm to his side. “You lied to him, didn’t you?” asked Merlin. 

“I did. The spell I gave him was correct, but I left out a major detail. The ritual only works if you’re holding a crystal from this cave. The magic from the Lake of Avalon and the magic from this cave work together to make the spell powerful enough to work. When he gets there and says the incantation, nothing will happen.” 

“That’s brilliant!” Hermione exclaimed. “Does this mean we have a way home?!” 

“Indeed. Here, before you arrived, I went through the trouble of collecting your crystals for you. They should be big and strong enough to take you where you need to go.” Taliesin pulled four large gems from his robe, and held them out for the wizards to take. 

“Wow,” Harry said after taking his. “I don’t think we can thank you enough.” 

“You don’t have to. I want you back in your proper time as much as you do. But I must warn you, I was not lying when I said you only have one chance to do this. If you do not succeed on the first try, you will be trapped here. It is also true that some priestesses have lost their sanity after traveling through time.” 

“This is something we have to try. It’s the only chance to get our lives back we may ever have, we can’t just throw it away,” Ron said. 

“Of course. I sincerely hope you succeed so we can return everything to the way it was supposed to be. Good luck.” Hermione took the last crystal, and Taliesin disappeared.

  
\--------

“How long will it take to travel on foot to the Lake of Avalon?” Harry asked. After leaving the cave, Hermione had suggested making camp and getting some rest. It was still dark out and everyone was exhausted. Merlin’s feet were sore and his eyes were droopy, but he didn’t want to stop. He wanted to push himself until he couldn’t take another step, because the discomfort was the only thing keeping his mind from wandering to home, to his friends, to Gaius, to Arthur. 

“At this rate, without horses, two days at the minimum,” Merlin said. 

“Ugh!” Draco sighed. “That sounds horrible!” 

“Can’t we just apparate again? It’s terrible, but it’s quick,” Merlin questioned. 

“No, we can’t. We’ve never been to the Lake of Avalon so we can’t visualize it in our heads; therefore, we can’t apparate there. We’re going to have to travel on foot, and so will Dolohov. Either way, we have the upperhand because we can get back and he can’t. It would be stupid not to get a few hours of sleep before we spend another day walking," Hermione said.

"She’s right," Harry said. "All in favor of setting up camp, raise your hand." Everyone raised their hand except Merlin. 

“So it’s settled then. Hermione, do you want help conjuring sleeping bags or something?” Draco asked. 

“That would be lovely, thank you,” She said. 

“Alright, that leaves Harry and I to start a fire. Why don’t you summon some logs, and I’ll light them up,” Ron said. With magic, everything flowed at a harmonious, efficient pace that Merlin had never managed while camping with Arthur. He’d always done his magic in secret, or decided that doing his chores manually was easier than trying to be sneaky. If there was one upside to all of this, it was that he wouldn’t have to hide anymore. He was free. 

\------------

In the morning, Merlin was thankful Hermione had forced them to rest. He woke up feeling rejuvenated and a little less heavy hearted. He sat up, stretching and yawning. His eyes ran over the area of their campground; so far, he was the only one awake. Merlin took those first few seconds of the morning to inhale deeply and appreciate the silence. 

As he did, he got to thinking about what would happen next, after the wizards left and he was well and truly alone. He couldn’t go to Ealdor. That would be one of the first places they’d look for him, and he refused to put Hunith in danger. Gwaine and Lancelot were living in Camelot again, so he couldn’t go wander the five kingdoms with either of them. Maybe he’d move east, he’d heard whispers of a city even bigger than Camelot being built on the banks of a river. Or maybe he’d live on the coast of Syfed, where water stretched as far as the eye could see. He didn’t know. Both options felt wrong. His heart would be in Camelot, and it would remain there no matter how far he went. 

Merlin finally got up when the urge to pee overcame him. He wandered off into the forest to relieve himself, but just as he was wrapping up, he heard the crunch of leaves off in the distance, followed by the sound of a horse snorting.

“People,” Merlin muttered. The only person who could be out there with them was Dolohov, but as far as Merlin knew, he didn’t have a horse. Merlin wondered if he should go back and wake the others, but first he wanted to be certain he wasn’t just hearing things. So he hurried in the direction of the horse, trying to keep his steps quiet in fear of alerting whoever it was of his presence. After a minute or so of walking, he heard voices.

“We’ve been following this thing all night. Can we please just rest? I can’t feel my backside anymore.” 

“No. You know our orders, we can’t rest until we find them.” 

Merlin froze. He knew those voices like the back of his hand: Gwaine and Lancelot.


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

Merlin had three choices: reveal himself and be arrested, reveal himself and find that they’d gone rogue, or run away. 

“I want to find Merlin as much as you do, but we’ll never catch up if we die of exhaustion first.” They were getting closer, Merlin could hear it. He had seconds to make a decision. 

“Hold on, what’s that?” 

“That bright red thing? Well it looks like...Merlin’s scarf! Merlin! Is that you?!” 

Merlin panicked and shouted the first thing that came to mind. “No!” 

“It is Merlin! Merlin, it’s Gwaine and Lancelot! We come in peace!” From Gwaine’s cheery tone, Merlin knew in his gut he was telling the truth. It was strange, before they themselves appeared, the spectral form of an otter came bounding towards Merlin. It reminded him of the dragon patronus he’d produced back before Morgana had taken over the castle. But why were Gwaine and Lancelot following it? Why was it in the shape of an otter? When the otter reached Merlin’s feet, it withered away into nothing. 

Lancelot and Gwaine followed after it. Their scarlet capes and shiny chainmail armor came into view, then their smiling faces. Merlin forgot about the otter. The two dismounted, and as they approached with open arms, tears of joy welled up in Merlin’s eyes. They had come all this way, forsaken their knighthood only days after being initiated, to stand by his side. There were no words to describe how it made him feel. At the same time, he felt kind of stupid for ever thinking he would be alone with such great friends. 

“I can’t believe you guys came,” Merlin said, practically throwing himself at Lancelot. 

“Of course we did! Did you seriously think that we were so loyal to Uther that we’d hunt you down and arrest you? Merlin, I’m offended,” Gwaine laughed. 

“I’m sorry. I learned what had happened and I just-I couldn’t think clearly,” Merlin said, hugging Gwaine next. 

"I don’t blame you, my friend. If I were in your shoes I don’t know who I would trust,” Lancelot said. 

“So, are you camped nearby?” Gwaine asked. 

“About two minutes in that direction. The young wizards are with me too, we’re headed to the Lake of Avalon.” 

“The Lake of Avalon? Why?” 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Anyways, shall I take you to my camp?”

“Please,” Lancelot said. “Although, one of us should go back and tell the others we’ve found you.” 

“The others?” Merlin asked, heart jumping in his chest. 

“Yes. Elyan twisted his ankle in his stirrup somehow, so Percy and Arthur volunteered to stay behind to help him,” Lancelot explained. 

“Oh,” Merlin said, trying to hide the sharp spike of anxiety at the mention of Arthur. “Okay. Um, Lancelot why don’t you go? I trust that you won’t lose your way as easily.” Gwaine’s face fell, and Lancelot’s smile only grew wider. 

“I agree. I’ll be back soon.” He climbed onto the back of his horse and cantered away. Gwaine wrapped his arm around Merlin’s shoulder and guided him towards the campsite. 

“A sorcerer, huh? At first I wasn’t sure, I thought you were too scrawny to be a magic wielder. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, it makes sense. You’ve always been strange.” 

“Thanks Gwaine.” 

“And I want you to know that I don’t care one bit. I never agreed with Uther’s genocidal tendencies, I think you’re ten times the man he is. In fact, I think your skills could definitely prove useful. Have you ever looked into gambling?” He was sure it would lose its novelty soon, but at the moment, Gwaine’s mindless chatter was like the rainbow after a storm. 

They arrived back at camp to find Harry and Hermione wide awake. Hermione saw them and squealed at the top of her lungs. “It worked! I can’t believe it worked!” 

“Gwaine?” Harry asked. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hello to you too,” Gwaine replied. 

“I sent for them,” Hermione explained. “Last night, when I went back to Camelot to tell Gaius where Merlin was, after I finished talking to him I went to Arthur. I told him that if he wanted to, he should sneak out and head for the Valley of Fallen Kings immediately. I told him that I’d bring him to our exact location with my patronus; you know, like Snape did when he led you and Ron to the Sword of Gryffindor. I wasn’t sure it would work, but it did!” 

"Wow, that was really smart of you Hermione,” Harry said. 

“Well duh, that’s why I did it.” 

All of their talking woke Draco and Ron. The boys sat up and looked around, very confused. 

“What’s Gwaine doin’ here?” Ron mumbled. 

“Why is it never: Hey! What is Gwaine doing here?! I love that guy!” Gwaine complained. 

“It’s because you’re a loudmouthed fool, my friend.” Merlin turned around to see Percival, as mountainous as ever, guiding his horse over. He was followed by Lancelot, a limping Elyan, and Arthur. 

Merlin locked eyes with the Prince, and it felt like all the air was sucked from his lungs. He had no clue how he was going to talk to Arthur now that the ugly truth was finally out there. He felt guilty for deceiving him for so many years. He felt terrified that Arthur hated him now that he knew what Merlin was, that he didn’t recognize him anymore. He felt paranoid that this might be a crazy ploy for Arthur to arrest him and bring him back to Uther. He felt worried that Arthur would never trust him again. Yet, despite all this, he still felt that certain sense of endearment, of warm-heartedness, he always felt when he looked at Arthur. 

This whirlwind of feelings was overwhelming. Merlin wanted to look away and refocus on the pointless conversation the others were having, to escape Arthur’s intense gaze, but he couldn’t. Arthur didn’t look away either. As Percy, Lancelot, and Elyan walked towards the camp, Arthur stood: staring. 

“Good to see you Merlin,” Percy said, clapping his shoulder and waking Merlin from his trance. “I’m glad you're safe.” 

“Me too,” Elyan said. “Gwen also sends her regards.” 

“Thank you, both,” Merlin said, offering the best fake smile he could muster. “I appreciate that you came. Your support means more than I can express.” Merlin glanced back at Arthur: he was still watching Merlin without a single emotion on his face. 

“Merlin,” Draco called. He and Ron were on their feet. The sleeping bags were gone, too. “I hate to interrupt all the happy reunions, but we should be on our way.” 

Merlin took a deep breath and turned away from Arthur, making it easier to function. “I agree, we have much ground to cover.” 

“May I ask exactly where we’re going and why we’re in such a hurry?” Elyan inquired. 

“We’re going to the Lake of Avalon,” Merlin said. “There’s a lot going on that we can’t explain, but basically we found a way to send them back to where they came from. It would be best if we could get them where they belong sooner than later, and to do it before Dolohov has the chance to interrupt. Luckily, we have the upperhand. We know exactly where the Lake of Avalon is, whereas Dolohov doesn’t.” 

“Wait,” Harry interrupted. “I wouldn’t jump to conclusions. He knew where the Crystal Cave was because you gave away it’s location in one of your journals. The Lake of Avalon is one of the most heavily mentioned places in your journals, even more than the Crystal Cave. I’m pretty sure you say where it is a handful of times.”

Merlin wanted to smack himself in the forehead. What was future Merlin thinking?

“You keep journals?” Lancelot asked. 

“Not yet,” Merlin said, earning a bewildered look in return. Once again, he wanted to smack himself in the forehead. “It’s not important. What’s important is that we get to the Lake of Avalon quickly. Do you guys mind sharing your horses? It will reduce the travel time by a day.” 

“Not at all,” Percy said. 

“Great,” Merlin said. “Then let’s go.”

\--------------

“Merlin, do another magic trick!” Elyan insisted. After a day of travel, they had set up camp. For the majority of the ride, the knights had been eager to see all the magic he could do. During the journey, Merlin had summoned butterflies, he’d made lighting strike the ground, he’d put Gwaine under a silence spell, he’d made Gwaine bald for awhile; basically, it had turned into a game of who could come up with a more creative way to magically alter Gwaine. Merlin was having lots of fun. 

“No!” Gwaine exclaimed, reaching for his hair. 

“Sure. Let’s see…” Merlin set down his plate and glanced around the campfire for something to manipulate. The fire itself caught his eye. “ _ Upstastige draca.”  _ At the command of his voice, a small dragon came to life in the flames. It flew around a bit, gaining some oohs and aahs from the spectators. Then, with the flick of Merlin’s wrist, it zoomed towards Gwaine at full speed. 

“Merlin!” Gwaine shouted angrily, falling backwards off his log. Merlin made the dragon disappear and joined the voracious laughter. He reached for a drink of water, as he took a sip, his eyes met Arthur’s from across the fire and Merlin’s smile faded. Arthur wasn’t laughing at Gwaine like the others. He had a smirk on his face, but it vanished the moment he saw Merlin looking at him. 

Merlin wasn’t afraid to admit he’d been avoiding Arthur all day. He’d ridden with Lancelot and made sure they were a distance away from each other. They hadn’t said talked once since their reunification. In fact, Merlin wasn’t sure he’d heard Arthur talk to anybody, let alone Merlin. Yet, he was the one thing lurking in the back of Merlin’s mind. They still shared many awkward fleeting looks. 

In a way, Merlin just wanted to put an end to all this nonsense and just talk to him. On the other hand, he was petrified to be near him, and was completely willing to do this until circumstances forced them to speak to each other. Merlin quickly turned his attention back to the others, and forced himself to grin again. 

Hours later, when the only light was the moon peeking through the tree branches, and the only sounds were the snores of the knights, Merlin was finding it hard to sleep. A strong breeze came, causing him to shiver. He sat up to check on the fire, which had died down to weak flickers and orange embers. 

Merlin was surprised to find that he wasn’t the only one awake. Harry had somehow moved his bed roll over near Draco’s without Merlin hearing. They were  _ very  _ close to each other, but once they saw Merlin sit up, their conversation came to a halt, and they froze up like frightened deer. 

Merlin shrugged it off and got to his feet. “I’m cold,” he whispered. “I’m going to get more firewood.” 

“Alright,” Harry whispered back. “Be careful.” 

So he tiptoed off into the forest, and when he was far enough away, he used magic to create a big ball of light in the palm of his hand. He began to collect sticks, but not for long. As he bent down to grab a fallen branch, he heard the distinct sound of human footsteps drawing near. He whirled around, and when he saw who it was, his breath hitched. 

Arthur strode towards him, hand firm on the hilt of his sword. Merlin dropped his sticks and took a large step back, keeping a close eye on Arthur’s hand. Arthur’s gaze followed Merlin’s, and when he realized what was happening, he immediately let go of his sword. He proceeded to put his hands in the air as if to say “I’m not going to hurt you”. 

It happened before Merlin could figure out what exactly was happening. Arthur approached without a word, then pulled Merlin close and kissed him. 

At first, the pure shock of it kept Merlin from doing anything. That was the  _ last  _ thing he’d been expecting. But after a couple of seconds, his eyes fell shut and he melted into the kiss. Merlin didn’t know how to describe it. It was like every stress he’d ever had dissipated, like he didn’t have a worry in the world. He felt complete in every sense of the word, like if he were to pull away there would be a gaping hole in his soul. Whether Arthur was destined to marry Gwen or not, Merlin felt like he’d been waiting his entire life for this, like this was where they were always supposed to end up. And even though this was their first kiss, there was a feeling of comfort and familiarity only Arthur ever offered him. 

Merlin lost track of all time, only able to ground himself again when Arthur unfortunately pulled away and rested their foreheads together. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that,” Arthur whispered. 

As Merlin’s racing heart began to slow, he remembered why he’d been so apprehensive about Arthur in the first place. “I thought,” he said. “I thought you would hate me.” 

Arthur’s expression sank, but he began to stroke Merlin’s cheek with his thumb. “When my father first told me, I knew that’s what I should have felt: hate. But I still loved you as much as I did when you didn’t have magic. The only person I hated was myself. To think that I had given you fair reasons to fear I might...kill you if you told me the truth broke my heart. Even now you were scared of me, and I hate that I ever made you feel that way. I’m so sorry.” 

“Arthur,” Merlin said, beaming. “Of course I forgive you. You betrayed your father and gave up everything to be by my side. I love you too.” 

“And I promise to be by your side until I take my final breath.” 

They kissed again, it was just as magical as the first one. 

“Does this mean I don’t have to be a servant anymore?” Merlin asked. 

“No. From here on out, we’re equals in everything we do.” 

“I don’t know about everything…” 

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Well, I think it’s clear that I’m a better fighter than you now, so you can quit bragging all the time.” 

“First of all, you might be powerful but I could easily take you in a fight. Second of all, I’m glad that you’re back to normal.” He took Merlin’s hand, and they strolled at a leisurely pace back to camp. “Can you catch me up on how exactly we’re getting the wizards back?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the premarital kissing in this fic, I just hope god can forgive me.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

It was true, he had given up everything. But when Merlin leaned back against his chest in the saddle, it was decidedly worth it. Away from Camelot, Arthur was free to be with the man he was proud to call the love of his life. They could run away to the countryside and start a farm like Arthur had always dreamed of. Of course, they might have to account for all the knights, but Arthur guessed taking care of them would be akin to taking care of four large children. 

“Merlin,” Arthur said. “Do you know any spells that would cause crops to grow in the winter?” 

“I’m sure there’s one or two. Why?” 

“We need to have a long term plan after we send these four back to their time. I’m just thinking ahead to all the ways we can get rich.” 

“Frankly, I think you could use some time as a peasant. It might get rid of your obnoxious arrogance.” 

“ _Excuse_ me?” Merlin looked up at him with a wide grin, distracting Arthur from his annoyance. If they were going to be together, he would need to build an immunity to Merlin’s adorable smiles, or else he was going to lose every argument. 

“Merlin,” Lancelot said from the horse beside them. “Is this it?”

Their horses left the cover of the woods, and they arrived on the grassy banks of a vast lake. It was surrounded by green hills and mist blanketed the water. The Lake of Avalon was beautiful, in Arthur’s opinion. 

“Yes. Come on, let’s say our farewells and send them on their way.” Arthur helped Merlin dismount, then got down himself. As they approached the water with the wizards, there was a heavy sense of sadness weighing him down. He was glad that they were returning home, but there was no way of seeing them again. This was goodbye forever. 

“Do you have your crystals?” Merlin asked. 

“Yep,” Ron said, pulling a gorgeous jewel from his pocket. The others revealed theirs as well. 

“Do you remember the magic words?” 

“I’ve spent the last two days drilling them into their heads. They know the magic words,” Hermione replied. 

“Then I guess you’re ready,” Merlin sighed. The hug fest commenced. All of them went around, hugging each of the knights tight. Harry was the first to hug Arthur. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For giving us a chance, for risking everything to protect us, just...thank you for everything. You’re a great man, and I’ll never forget what you’ve done for us. It’s been an honor to meet you and Merlin.” 

“Likewise. You and your friends stay safe, wherever you’re going. And thank you for showing me that magic isn’t always evil, there’s a lot more I need to learn, but you’re all a part of the reason accepting recent...news has been easier than I thought it would. I’ll remember you forever.” As he finished speaking, Draco came up next to Harry, and Arthur wasn’t surprised when he offered a handshake rather than a hug. 

“I’d like to apologize for being so rude to you when we first met. You’re certainly more than a muggle with a chain link fence for armor and I respect you immensely.” 

“Thank you very much, I wish you both very well on your journey home.” They moved on to Merlin, and Hermione took their place. At first, she was silent. She looked at Arthur with sorrow, like she was holding back tears. Then she wrapped her arms tight around Arthur, so tight he found it hard to breath. 

“Whatever you do,” she whispered into his ear. “Don’t trust Mordred. I don’t care what he does, or what he says, don’t trust Mordred and don’t kill his lover. Don’t let him turn on you. Don’t let him switch to Morgana’s side.” Arthur had no idea what she was talking about. He recognized the name vaguely, but he couldn’t quite picture the face it belonged to. However she sounded desperate, like she was begging, so he humored her. 

“I won’t.” 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise I won’t trust Mordred.” 

“Thank you. I know it sounds odd now, but in the future, it will make sense.” 

“I’ll just have to trust you on that one.” 

“You better. Goodbye Arthur. You’ll never know how much it meant to meet you.” She gave him one last hug, and one last smile, before walking away. 

Last, but certainly not least, Ron came over. He gave Arthur a brisk hug, patting him on the back and then pulling away. “Thanks for everything, mate. I can’t wait to tell George I met you, he’s going to be so jealous.” He also glanced between Merlin and Arthur, then leaned in and whispered. “And hey, I think I figured it out. All the luck to you and Merlin. I think you guys make a good pair.” 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Arthur had not been expecting that, not from Ron. But he appreciated the kind words. Ron gave him a quick salute, then went over to Harry and Draco, who were ready to wade into the water. 

After that, It wasn’t long before things went wrong. 

“Arthur!” Elyan shouted. He let go of Hermione and whirled around. Immediately, he shielded Hermione with his body. Dolohov emerged from the forest, prowling towards them like a wolf on the hunt. 

“Get to the water and get out of here,” Merlin ordered. “We’ll protect you as long as we can.” Arthur wouldn’t get to say goodbye to Ron, but he’d rather have him alive than waste time on formalities. 

“Knights!” Arthur barked. “Defense line!” They formed a semicircle around both the wizards and Merlin. As they did this, Dolohov simply smiled. 

"What can swords and shields do against magic?” He pointed his wand at Lancelot. “Avada-” 

“ _Bacaidh dìon!”_ Merlin’s voice echoed through the air, and all of a sudden, a shimmering forcefield rose in front of Arthur and the knights. 

“-Kedavra!” A flash of green light exploded from Dolohov’s wand, but it was fruitless. It bounced against the barrier, never even scratching Lancelot. Arthur glanced over his shoulder to see Merlin struggling to keep up a magic barrier. 

“Go!” Merlin shouted to them. “Now!” The wizards ran for the water, and Arthur turned his attention back to Dolohov, who was red in the face with anger. As long as they were able to do whatever ritual they needed to do, he was stumped, and he knew it. He retired his wand and whipped out the same dagger he’d used to stab Merlin, then charged at them with a crazed look in his eye. It was a last, desperate attempt on his part, to try and attack a group of Camelot Knights with nothing but a knife. They raised their swords at him, and he quickly backed off. Utter despair set in on his face. He had lost.

Arthur began to hear the wizards speak in a foreign language. He looked to the water to see what was happening. They were knee deep in the lake, each one clutched a gorgeous crystal in their hands. Dolohov stared at the crystals with a confused, furious expression. 

“That old druid tricked me!” He shouted. But this revelation was useless. There was a loud splash of water. What followed was catastrophic. 

Somehow, a great invisible force knocked Arthur off his feet, causing him to fall face first to the ground. The world around him turned a bright, blinding, white, and he had to press his eyes into his arms to protect them. But the light eventually faded. Arthur looked to the lake once more to see what the hell had happened. The wizards were gone. All of them. They had vanished into thin air. 

“Yes!” Merlin cried when he saw the empty water. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the shore, disregarding Dolohov. “Yes! They did it!” He pumped his fist in the air, victorious. Since he was too busy celebrating, Arthur figured it was his job to detain Dolohov while he was down. 

“What the...what just happened? Where are they?” Lancelot asked, looking all over for them. 

He hopped to his feet. “Gwaine, Elyan, help me!” The three of them ran to Dolohov. Arthur stepped on his hand and wrestled his wand from him, breaking it in half so the man was powerless. Elyan nabbed his knife. 

“No!” Dolohov exclaimed. “I’ll kill you all with my bare hands if I have to!” 

“Yeah?” Arthur said, twisting his arms behind his back. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Arthur,” Gwaine said. “What should we do with him? We cannot bring him to Camelot, not after we fled.” 

“Well, if we could bring him back to Camelot, I know exactly what sentence Uther would give him. Let’s conduct justice accordingly.” Dolohov’s eyes went wide, and he began to thrash like wild in Arthur’s arm. “You guys keep him down. I’ll do the honors.” So they switched places. Gwaine grabbed his arms, Elyan took him by the hair, and Arthur pulled out his trusty sword. 

“I’m sorry,” Dolohov said as Arthur pressed the blade to his neck, just light enough not to cut the skin. “I-I’m under a curse, mind control, nothing I did was on my own accord.” 

Gwaine burst out laughing. “This man is a fool!”

Arthur smirked, indeed he was a fool. He felt no guilt doing this. Arthur plunged the sword between Dolohov’s ribs, right where his heart would be. 

“That’s for stabbing the love of my life, you bastard,” he whispered into Dolohov’s ear. The sorcerer did not respond, he was too busy choking on his own blood. The life drained out of his eyes, and this evil, dark, wizard with magic coursing through his veins, died to steel. The moment his body hit the ground, relief flooded Arthur’s body. He looked to Merlin with a smile, there were no more worries, or obligations to be filled, their life of happiness and freedom awaited. 

Together, they walked to the shore of the lake and took each other’s hand, admiring the view. 

"Where should we build our farm?” Merlin asked. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur said. “As long as you’re there with me.” Not caring about the knights, Merlin rested his head on Arthur’s shoulder. He didn’t know what would have happened if things had turned out differently this past week, but this was better than any of it. 

**********

Suilean followed the scent of smouldering embers to find the camp. As he approached the perimeter, in the far distance, he saw five of his kin also navigating their way in the pitch black night. They were all going to the same place, so Suilean made his way over to walk with them. 

At the sight of him, they bowed deeply. “Good evening, Seer Suilean.” 

“Good evening,” he replied. “Have the others gone to Camelot like instructed? Has the Cup been returned to its proper place?” 

“Yes, both of those have been done.” They only had to walk a few more feet until they reached the camp. Knight Percival, who was supposed to be watching guard, had fallen asleep. This was good, as it made it easier for the druids to do their job that night. Suilean looked across the fading fire, Emrys and Arthur Pendragon slept shoulder to shoulder.

“Suilean, these are such drastic measures,” one of the druids said, also watching the two asleep together. “Are you certain there’s no other way?” She asked. 

Suilean nodded. It was harsh, cruel even, but it had to be done. “If we don’t fix things as soon as possible, the future will be broken. They cannot know of things yet to pass. Arthur cannot know about Emrys’s magic yet. He cannot know about Mordred. He must become king, Guinevere must become queen, he must die: it is destiny.” 

“If it is destiny, then won’t these things come to pass on their own? Naturally?” 

“We can’t afford such a risk. Trust me, this is just as hard for me as it is for you, but it’s for the greater good.” 

The fellow druid sighed heavily, but did not argue. “If you and the other leaders have agreed on this, then I shall trust you.” 

“Thank you, my friend. All of them are asleep. Let’s replace their memories.” 

*******

Merlin woke up to someone vigorously shaking his shoulder. He rolled over in his bed and saw Gaius. He was a tad groggier than usual, but nothing he couldn’t fight through. 

“Merlin, breakfast is ready,” Gaius said. “It’s toast and oatmeal.” 

“Ugh, five more minutes,” Merlin groaned. 

“Merlin, you have a busy day today. Morgana and Morgause nearly destroyed Camelot, Arthur will need lots of your help, especially with King Uther in such a state.” 

Merlin supposed he was right. But Arthur was probably still asleep himself, up in his cozy bed for royalty. Gaius gave him no choice, he grabbed Merlin by the wrist and pulled him out from under the covers. “Up boy, get dressed and come eat.” 

So dragging his feet, he threw on his usual jacket and scarf combination, then sat down to (no offence to Gaius) the blandest breakfast ever concocted. Halfway through the meal, Merlin found his thoughts drifting to better times, to the tournament three days before Morgana’s betrayal. He thought of Gilli, and hoped the guy was doing well. 

After breakfast, he made his way to Arthur’s room, where he ran into Gwaine. It was strange to see Gwaine in a knight's attire, but it made Merlin proud of his friend. 

“Sir Gwaine,” Merlin bowed with a smirk, he knew Gwaine would hate being addressed as such. 

“Oh shut up Merlin,” Gwaine said, smiling. “Where are you off to?” 

“Arthur’s room, I have to wake him up, wish me luck.” 

“Oh my. Should I lend you my sword for self defense?” 

“Thank you for the offer, but I have my own ways of dealing with Arthur in the morning. See you later...Sir Gwaine.” Gwaine jokingly lunged at him, and Merlin scurried off laughing to himself. 

He arrived at Arthur’s room and slipped inside, only to find that Arthur was up, and he wasn’t alone. 

“Oh, good morning Merlin,” Gwen greeted. She sat beside Arthur at the table, running her thumb over the back of his hand as they ate a delicious looking breakfast of bacon, fruit, and fresh sourdough bread. 

“Good morning Guinevere. I see you’ve done my job for me.” So Merlin hadn’t needed to wake up so early? He would certainly give Gaius an earful later.

“Don’t worry Merlin,” Arthur said. “You still have _plenty_ of chores to do today, I made sure of that.” 

“Wow, who knew you could be so generous,” Merlin sassed, earning a giggle from Gwen and a glare from Arthur. 

“Shut up, Merlin.” 

“Alright. Since breakfast is taken care of, what would you like me to do?” 

“That’s the opposite of shutting up, but since you offered, I’d like you to go check on my father and make sure he eats something this morning. He hasn’t...he’s taking everything with Morgana really hard,” Arthur said, face falling. 

“I know. I’m sorry Arthur, I wish time travel was possible, that way we could prevent all of this from happening,” Merlin said. 

“Yeah. Me too.” It fell silent, and they found themselves staring into each other’s eyes a few seconds longer than normal. Merlin simply shrugged it off. 

“I guess I’ll go do that then. Goodbye Gwen; Arthur, I’ll see you later.” 

Merlin left them alone. He shut the door behind him, and went about his day as normal. 


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

The upper half of Draco’s body shot out of the water. He gasped for air and shoved his sopping wet hair out of his eyes. He found himself looking around frantically, trying to piece together where he was and what was going on. He saw Ron sitting up a few meters away from him and sighed with solace, at least one of them had made it, as far as he could tell. He looked the other way, Hermione was there too. Draco began to panic as he realized a certain someone was not in his eyesight. 

“Where’s Harry?” He said. “Where’s Harry?!” 

“He’s over...uh oh.” Ron pointed to the opposite side of him, the side Draco couldn’t see. 

“What’s happened?” Draco asked, jumping to his feet and splashing through the water. He saw Harry face down in the water, and a fear he’d never felt before took hold of his entire being. It was like all the air had been stolen from his lungs, like his stomach had turned to solid iron. Draco almost mowed down Ron racing towards Harry. 

He dropped down into the water again, flipped Harry on his back, and had to bite his lip to keep from crying out at the top of his lungs. His eyes were shut, his skin was cold, and his body was like a ragdoll in Draco’s arms. 

“No no no,” Draco whispered. He pressed his fingers to Harry’s pulse, and when he felt a dull throb, he almost passed out from the relief.

“Is he okay?” Hermione asked from somewhere in the background.

Draco felt as if he had no time to answer. He scrambled for his wand, and pulled the dripping stick from his back pocket. “ _ Auferaqua _ .” Like he suspected, Harry began to cough up water until his lungs were completely empty. When Draco thought it was safe for him to wake up, he raised his wand again and said, “ _ Rennervate.”  _

He crossed his fingers, and the seconds dragged by as he waited for Harry to show any sign of consciousness. Finally,  _ finally _ , his eyes fluttered open, and Draco could see the verdant irises of his eyes. 

“Harry, can you hear me?” 

“Y-yeah,” he coughed. 

“Oh thank god!” He grabbed Harry by the face and planted a huge kiss on his cheek; he heard Ron and Hermione gasp, but he didn’t care. “You’re an idiot Potter! Don’t scare me like that again!” 

“It wasn’t my fault.” 

“I know! Just…” he spotted Harry’s glasses floating nearby, and reached for them. “Put these on alright?” He wiped them off and slid them on Harry’s face for him. “Much better.” 

“Hey, I uh, I think we should get out of the water,” Ron said. Draco could hear the awkward expression on his face. 

“Yeah, it’s getting dark and cold,” Hermione chimed in. 

“Draco,” Harry said. “That means you’re going to have to let me go.” Draco frowned, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but it had to be done. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. He let go and let Harry gather himself, but on the way to their feet, Draco did hold his hands: just in case. 

“Hold on,” Harry said, looking to the giant tower in the middle of the lake. “Do you guys know if the spell actually worked? The lake is the exact same.” 

“Well, a truck drove past when I woke up,” Hermione said. “So I hope so. And none of us have gone insane--” She glanced between Draco and Harry with hesitancy. “--I think.”

“We’re not at Hogwarts though.” Draco said. “We have to find a way to get back.” 

“We should apparate to The Burrow,” Ron suggested. “My mum and dad will be there, and they can help us figure out a way back. It’s also dry.” 

“I like that plan,” said Harry. “Draco, I know you haven’t been there, so just hold onto me, alright?” Draco nodded, always eager to hold his hand these days. He took Harry’s wrist in his palm. 

“Ready?” Hermione asked. They all shook their heads yes. “To The Burrow then. One, two, three.” 

All Draco did was blink, and in that split second, they went from the Lake of Avalon to a homey kitchen that smelled of delicious soup. 

“Merlin’s beard!” Molly Weasley, unfortunately, was in the middle of cooking that soup. She jumped about an inch into the air, flinging a handful of chopped parsley every which way. She glowered at the two boys, clutching her chest. 

“You boys nearly gave me a heart attack! What on Earth…” Molly trailed off at the sight of them: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, hand in hand, dripping all over her kitchen. “What on Earth is going on here?” She asked in a lower, yet more puzzled tone. 

“It’s a long story, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said. Suddenly, they heard the stairs creak as someone descended to the ground floor. Moments later, Ron popped his head into the kitchen, and his eyes lit up at the sight of his mother. 

“Mummy!” He cried, embracing her in a bear hug. Mrs Weasley became even more confused. 

“Hello dear,” she said, patting his wet hair. “What are you doing home? Shouldn’t you be at school?” 

The sound of the front door creaking open echoed through the house: it was Hermione. 

“Hello?” She called out. 

“We’re in here, love!” Ron replied. “We’re home!” Hermione entered the kitchen, and Mrs Weasley finally broke out of her stupor. 

“Alright,” she said. “I don’t know  _ what  _ has happened, or why  _ all  _ of you have skipped school to come here, and I certainly expect an explanation for this behavior. But all of you must stop getting the kitchen floor all wet. Go upstairs and get dry, then we can have a conversation.” 

“Sure thing, Mrs Weasley,” Hermione said. So they marched upstairs to do just that. 

*******

“And that’s how we wound up here,” Harry finished. Their soup bowls were empty, and they’d spent the last hour explaining in detail what had happened. From the look on their faces’, he had a feeling Mr and Mrs Weasley were skeptical that they’d been hanging out with Prince Arthur and Merlin for the past week. If he were them, he would have been skeptical too. 

“I know,” Ron said. “It sounds mental, but it happened: it actually happened. We showed you the crystals, didn’t we? You have to believe us, mum and dad, why would we make up something like this?” 

“Don’t worry, sweety, we believe you,” Mrs Weasley said, but Harry sensed a fair amount of insincerity in her voice. “It’s just...it’s quite late at night and you all look tired. Why don’t you all go to bed for the night? Whether you met King Arthur and Merlin or not, you still have to return to Hogwarts tomorrow.” 

Harry met Draco’s gaze from across the table: she didn’t believe them. And if she did, she didn’t believe she herself believed it, if that made any sense. 

“Yes,” said Mr Weasley. “I’ll be contacting Professor McGonnagle to let her know you’ll be arriving via floo powder as of tomorrow morning.” Harry felt a part of him die inside. After everything they’d just been through, and they were being sent back to school first thing. But there was no use arguing. They would have to go back at some point, and sooner was better than later, he supposed. 

“Thank you for the meal, we’ll be off to bed then,” Harry said. The four of them got up from the table, put their dishes in the kitchen, then went upstairs. The closer he got to the bedrooms, the more exhausted Harry realized he was. In the end, when he collapsed into bed, wearing real, non-medival pajamas for the first time in what felt like forever, he was glad they’d made them go to sleep so early. 

\--------

Harry was unsure why Ron and Hermione looked at him this way. They sat at the kitchen table, drinking tea and eating breakfast, and both of them watched Harry with the oddest look in their eye. 

“What?” He asked, mouth full of muffin. 

“I guess I’ll be the one to ask,” Hermione sighed. “Are you and Draco...dating or something? He kissed your cheek when you woke up out of the lake yesterday.” 

Harry began to choke on his muffin. So they had seen that? He washed down the muffin with tea, and when the coughing subsided, scrambled to pull together a coherent answer. 

“Um-well-there was this tavern, a-nd the mirror, and we kissed a couple times and-uh I don’t know. Yes?” 

“Calm down, Harry,” Hermione said. “You don’t need to have a stroke. We discussed it last night, and although it’s definitely weird, and will take time getting used to, we decided that if you really want this, and if he really makes you happy somehow, who are we to stop you?” 

“So you guys are okay with it?” 

“Yeah, as long as he stays in line,” Ron said. 

“Don’t worry,” Harry said. “I’ll make sure of that.” He took a sip of tea with a straight face, but he was doing cartwheels inside. That had gone better than he ever could have hoped. 

\---------- 

“Detention! I can’t believe this!” Ron fumed as they left McGonagall’s office. “Do they really think we made this all up just to skip school for a night?” 

“That seems to be it,” Draco said. 

“To be fair,” Hermione said. “From the outside, it would all sound incredibly far fetched. I’m sure McGonagall and the other professors have heard inane lies over the years about students' whereabouts.” 

“I just wish they would give us the benefit of the doubt. If they won’t believe the crystals, then what will convince them?” Harry chimed in, whole heartedly on Ron’s side. 

“What if they heard it from Merlin himself?” said Draco. “What if he put us in his journals?” 

“Yeah, they wouldn’t be able to deny it then, and we’d get out of cleaning the Quidditch stands after the next three games,” Ron agreed. 

“I know exactly where they are in the library, follow me,” Hermione said. So they navigated their way to the library, and then the exact section where Hogwarts kept three copies of all of Merlin’s journals. 

“We would be in the third one, right?” Ron asked, pulling out the third volume. 

“Exactly,” Harry said. They took a seat at one of the tables, Ron and Hermione sharing a book, Draco and Harry across from them with their own. They weren’t alone in the library. Plenty of students passed by, some Harry recognized, some were complete strangers. That didn’t matter to him as he wrapped his arm around Draco and pulled him close, so they were cuddling as they flipped through the journal. 

“Harry,” Draco whispered as some sixth year girls from Hufflepuff passed, gawking at them and whispering. “People are staring.” 

“I know.” 

Before he could respond, Hermione frowned and said, “I-I don’t understand. Are you guys seeing this?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s the same. Everything. Down to the exact phrasing. We’re not in this, it’s just everything that would have happened if we weren’t there: The Castle of Fyrien, The Fisher King, Uther discovering Gwen and Arthur’s relationship. Nothing changed.” 

Harry’s heart sank. He turned to the page she was out and saw for himself. It was like they were never there. 

“Hold on,” Harry said. He got up and went to the section where the journals were, then retrieved volume four. As he walked back to Draco, he flipped through the first few pages. The next journal hadn’t changed either. After Morgana and Morgause’s attack on Camelot, history progressed like it was meant to. Merlin and Arthur were still in Camelot, not on the run from Uther, and forced to deal with the Dorocha. 

“Here,” he said, showing the rest of them. 

They all looked at each other, baffled. 

“What could have happened?” Ron asked, saying what was all on their minds. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “But we definitely won’t be getting out of detention now.” 

Draco slammed his book shut with a deep sigh. “Nobody will  _ ever  _ believe us, we can’t say anything or they’ll send us to St Mungos.” 

Harry gently rubbed his upper back to soothe both of their frustration. He supposed, in some ways, it was a good thing that somehow everything had stayed the same. They were all here in a familiar world, not having to deal with the consequences of tinkering with time. 

“But we know what happened,” he said. “It was real. And no one can take that away from us.” 

Ron leaned forward on the table and ran his fingers through his hair: he started laughing. “They’re going to spend a looong time looking for Dolohov, aren’t they?” 

Harry snorted. “Yeah.” 

Hermione looked at a nearby clock and said, “Guys, Advanced Potions starts in ten minutes. We should make our way to class.” 

She was right. Harry wanted to stay there, to flip through all of Merlin’s journals to find a hint of what had happened, but he had a feeling, no matter how hard he looked, he would find nothing. From the looks on their faces, he knew the others felt the exact same way. But there was nothing else that could be done. They returned their books, and went to potions. 

Draco was in that class, so he and Harry sat together, hand in hand. On the way to the front, Slughorn passed them and raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s good to see you boys finally getting along. Now, class, I hope you did the reading on the properties of Cockatrice Venom, as it will play a vital role in the potion we’re making today…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this is the end. I'll be honest with you, I fell out of love with this story and got burned out, that's why it took so long for me to write these last chapters. I apologize if the ending feels rushed, or not as good as it could be, but this ending is what I'd had in mind since the beginning, and I felt like I owed it to you guys to finish this. I hope it's adequate enough, and I sincerely thank every single one of you for reading my story from the bottom of my heart, hopefully it was a good experience. 
> 
> Goodbye and thank you, Melody.


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